


Blaiddyd

by Syllogism



Series: Trials of the Lion [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Brainwashing, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, Gen, Human Experimentation, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), POV Alternating, Tags Are Hard, This Edelgard is kind of different though..., Torture, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21644821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syllogism/pseuds/Syllogism
Summary: When news broke out about the Crown Prince of Faerghus murdering his own blood, his execution was announced soon after. Once that day came, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was pronounced dead. Everyone came to accept that the Blaidydd line had ended for good.Or, so most thought.Expecting to wake up to the day of his execution, Dimitri finds himself in an unfamiliar environment. In truth, he was taken away by TWSITD to be experimented on for his Crest, having no way to contact anyone from the outside for rescue. With most of Fódlan presuming he's dead and escape seeming impossible, Dimitri is at the mercy of what they have in store for him. Meanwhile, his friends struggle in a desperate search for his whereabouts...
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Dedue Molinaro
Series: Trials of the Lion [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605094
Comments: 80
Kudos: 158





	1. Isolated From the Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Heya, first time publishing something here on this site. And my first time writing a fic in ages, so I'm pretty darn rusty. Nevertheless, I had some ideas flowing and couldn't help myself. I'm open to criticism too, I'm curious about how others feel about this. Now I have completed Azure Moon and Verdant Wind and followed another friend's playthrough of Crimson Flower (College making it impossible for me to play this route in my spare time damn it), so bear with me if I get things wrong here and there.
> 
> I guess follow some of the warnings seen in the tags. I hope you enjoy!

The first thing he feels is the stone-cold floor of his cell, his body shivering as he begins to wake up with a throbbing headache. He struggles to open his eyes as they try to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. Mouth dry too, though that's expected considering how much he’s been starved before. An irritating itch is pestering him from the back of his neck as well. How long has he been out? His memory is foggy, he can barely recall what happened before he fell asleep.  
  
While dazed, Dimitri pushes himself onto his knees and slowly begins to realize things are off. This cell… looks nothing like the one he was kept in the capital. It was fairly spacious, with the walls and floor being completely made of solid grey stone. There are some glowing lights reverberating from the ceiling, though just barely keeping the space illuminated. A sleeping mat is placed in the corner too, though no surprise that whoever brought him here favored dumping him in the middle of the room.

The enchanted chains that used to bind his wrists and ankles are now gone too, leaving behind only chafe marks from his futile attempts to escape his previous cell. A suspicious bandage is also wrapped around his arm, which he knew very well was not present there before. Even his clothes were completely different, the prison garb he’s wearing is stark white. Not very protective of his skin though, as he’s still barefoot with his arms and knees being exposed. 

However, the most notable thing was the massive metal door that looms right in front of where he woke up. Far sturdier than the rusting prison bars in Fhirdiad’s dungeons, but definitely something even he would have to exert more force to pry open with his own hands. Might be possible, however, the material looks unfamiliar to him. 

He forces himself up onto his legs, nearly stumbling forward as he tries to hold onto the wall for support. His body feels sluggish. That’s to be expected since he was locked up and positioned in the same spot for a few days already. What little food he was served wasn’t enough, he might pass out again if he’s not careful.

Guiding himself along the wall, he made it to the door and grabs onto its frame. “I should at least try.” He huffed to himself, wiping off some of the sweat forming on his forehead. 

With all his might, he pulls on the edge of the door. He keeps applying more and more of his strength but nothing would budge, it’s actually straining his hands now. Despite his efforts, he’s forced to stop thanks to the risk of popping his fingers off. He slumps down against the door, feeling too weak to continue. 

Somethings wrong.

His strength just feels… unusual. Very off. Even when he was sick or bedridden he was able to pull things apart or destroy them at ease. Out of frustration he punches the wall next to him multiple times yet only receives aching pain in return. “Damn it… nothing.” He clutches his knuckles as they start bleeding. This is impossible. No way is it gone. This can’t be right!

He no longer wore the chains that Cornelia imprisoned him with either. Every time he attempted to use his Crest’s power while wearing those chains, they would react and activate a spell that sent surges of dark energy into his body, immobilizing him. It did not matter how much he tried to struggle, eventually, even he would be worn down by the constant waves of it. If there’s one weak point of his that’s easy to abuse, it’s his poor affinity and resistance to magic. A perfect solution to handle someone like him.

In Cornelia’s own words: “To keep the little princeling tame until his execution.”

That’s right, he’s remembering now. He was scheduled to have his execution today, well, assuming it was the same day. Now he’s in this foreign cell unable to recall what happened between the time he was sleeping and awake. Where the hell is he? Who moved him here?

So many questions yet he is still in the dark. He leans his head against the wall looking up at the ceiling, scratching his neck as the irritating itch still hasn’t gone away yet. Closing his eyes he thinks back on what happened back in Fhirdiad: The brutal murder of his uncle, being accused and imprisoned, tortured and starved like the animal he is.

He remembers last seeing Cornelia before falling asleep. There were masked strangers… he thinks he recalls screaming at one point. Blast it, nothing is making any sense. Why he is still alive? They seemed so determined to kill him so that they could take over the Kingdom. Likely planned in advance since his return would signal his coronation to become the next King soon after. 

Should have known it was a mistake to allow Cornelia to continue working with the royal family. Even when he was a child he felt unnerved by her presence within the court, yet he was powerless to do anything about it even after reaching of age. Maybe if he had convinced Uncle Rufus… though unfortunately, it’s too late for that. Likely this was all plotted in collaboration with the Empire— with that woman who still runs free from her crimes. 

Of course, Edelgard. 

She was probably— no, _is responsible_ for this. He wouldn’t be surprised if she plans to keep him around as a prisoner, to force him to watch as she takes over Fódlan. What more is she willing to take away from his life? Already he has lost the Professor, and his class doesn’t even know about whereabouts. They could already be dead. How many more ghosts will continue to haunt him as he rots away in a cell located Goddess knows where?

_‘Where is her head Dimitri?’_

And on cue, their voices returned. 

_‘You promised to avenge us.’_

_‘How can we move on knowing that she’s still alive?’_

He’s failed them. He tossed away his one chance at killing her. Dimitri keeps his head down as he avoids looking into the eyes of the dead, pulling at his hair as he has no way to make their cries stop. 

“Please, no more… ” He whispered, afraid of angering them further. Silencing their pleas is becoming infeasible; there has to be a way to get out of here.

His head shoots up when he is alerted to the sound of the door opening. The doors internals can be heard whirring as segments begin to shift away, sliding open to allow a stranger to take their first steps into the cell.

Wasting no time, Dimitri leaps towards the door as he’s filled with sudden adrenaline, winding up his fist to attempt to deliver a blow to whoever the unlucky visitor is. It didn’t matter who it was, he needs to escape. 

A sudden burst of dark magic pulses out from the visitor's hand, hitting Dimitri square in the chest and launching him across the other side of the room. 

He collides with the wall and slides back onto the floor, sapped of all of the pitiful energy he had left. It’s becoming difficult to breathe and his limbs feel like slush. Miasma. That was the spell that hit him. It’s all too familiar from the times he held training sessions with Sylvain or when his class fought enemy soldiers.

“How pitiful, I’ve barely charged up the spell and yet you still fell to its effects that easily. A shame to see the Crown Prince of Faerghus in this state.”

That voice is all too familiar. “Arundel…” Dimitri growled, struggling to move his arms in a desperate attempt to push himself up in order to attack again. He falls back down, his forehead making contact with the cold floor. Too weak to even lift his own head up. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You should know very well that your body is in no condition to move too much.” Arundel sneered. He crouches down and forcibly pulls a wad of the prince's hair up, making direct eye contact “We do not want you killing yourself while here, that won’t do at all considering we have just started.” 

“Started…?” Dimitri heaved, still gasping for air as his lungs screamed for more. “I don’t know… what you are talking about… you bastard” 

Arundel promptly lets go of his hair, letting Dimitri’s head drop back onto the floor. “Hmph, truly no way to treat your own uncle. You should be grateful.” He steps back and turns away to pace around the cell. “Had I not contacted Cornelia, your beheaded corpse would have been rotting in a shallow grave on the outskirts of Fhirdiad.”

“...a preferable outcome.” 

“I would disagree. You have plenty of potential yet to be realized, it’s a miracle that we’ve managed to retrieve you in such a vulnerable state.”

A confirmation that he is to be kept alive. What game is the Empire playing with him? 

“...what do you want with me? You… should know that keeping me alive… is a mistake you’ll pay for.” Dimitri forces himself up on his arms despite his current state of weakness, attempting to keep constant sight of his uncle’s movements. “If you’re asking for information… I have none.” 

“You seem confused, it’s not information we are looking for specifically. In all honesty, I don’t think it’s something even you could comprehend.” Arundel chuckles, seemingly taking pleasure in toying with Dimitri’s knowledge. “Ah, but perhaps it is worth sharing with you. Not like you have any power here.” He ponders, pausing his movements to turn back to his prisoner. “However, if you threaten to attack me again or attempt any escape, then you will face the consequences for your disobedience.”

Once again the itch on his neck demands attention. Able to lift one of his arms he reaches to scratch it. Damn it, why is that itch still bothering him? Dimitri also did not enjoy the idea of playing dog, especially to his traitorous uncle, though this current predicament forces him to comply for now. With some struggle, he sits back up against the wall glaring at Arundel and answers back in silence. 

_‘Kill him!’_

_‘Fight back!’_

As tempting as it was, he didn’t want to give in to their demands just yet. It’s too soon, he has to be patient with this one. 

“Fascinating, there is some sense left in there.” 

“...Enough with the jokes.” Dimitri exhales before he continues, regaining his composure. “There are some things I want to be answered first: What does Edelgard gain from imprisoning me here? Why not be rid of me?” It has to be her responsible for this, there's no other reason as to why Arundel would show himself then. 

There was a moment of silence until Arundel bursts into a cackle, startling Dimitri. “Oh you truly are a lost cub,” He shakes his head as he tries to contain the rest of his laughter, finally clearing his throat. “I can confirm that Edelgard has nothing to do with this, I’m the one who’s taken responsibility for your imprisonment. My, she is not even aware of you still walking amongst the living.”

Dimitri’s eyes widen. “Lies. Do you take me for a fool?!”

“Only if you choose to continue playing the part of one. As far as Fódlan knows, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is dead. The entirety of your family’s bloodline is presumed to be wiped after your publicly announced execution.” Arundel hums as he strokes his beard. “The only ones aware beside me are my closest allies.”

Dimitri struggles to formulate a response. It’s difficult to believe, actually, it’s something he can’t help but assume to be fabricated. If what he is saying is true, then that means Arundel is acting independently from the Empire and Edelgard supposedly has nothing to do with this? Or is the Empire working against her? This feels like a trap. “And what makes you think I should accept this?” He argues. “There would be demands to see my body, questions, and rumors. You’re just covering for that wench as well, despite the fact that she’s the one who’s responsible for your sister’s murder. Or wait, you contributed to that too, haven’t you?” He could barely control the rage creeping up at his voice.

“No need to fret over what your precious Kingdom believes, what I said is infallible. Those who believe otherwise are seen as fools. I also gain nothing from lying for my niece. If she were to find out you were kept alive by us, she’d likely prefer your execution would have taken place instead.”

Edelgard? Concerned for his well being? Laughable. 

“Any further questions? Or are you satisfied with knowing what has been going on with your sister?” Arundel says with amusement. 

When the opportunity arises and Dimitri finds a way to escape, the first thing he’ll do is shove a lance right through Arundel’s heart. “What is it that you plan to do with me then? Why even ‘save’ me?”

“As I have mentioned before, you hold potential. Your Crest of Blaiddyd has caught our eye. Despite yours being minor, your body is still capable of unleashing inhuman strength against anything in your path. I’ve seen the results of what you are capable of, it’s quite disgusting.” A smile then crept up his face. “Yet all so worth experimenting with.”

“Experimenting?” Dimitri interrupts. “Do not tell me you’re planning to tamper with that power.” Everything this man is spouting out is sounding like complete nonsense at this point. “I don’t know what you or your collection of followers are planning to do with my Crest, but don’t think that I’ll—” 

“Allow me to finish,” Arundel says sternly, showing a tinge of annoyance. “We merely wish to use the data we have acquired over these past few years and apply them to a new subject. One who may help us with furthering our cause.”

“I have no interest in helping whatever cause you have or participating in these little games of yours.” He attempts to lift his body up even though his legs are unable to bear his own weight, causing him to tumble back down. Dimitri couldn’t help but groan out of irritation for how weak he is.

Arundel snorts. “Consider yourself lucky. Away from the horrors of war, you’ll be safe with us as you recover and gain new power. Once the procedure is complete and if you survive, you will be serving directly under me.”

“What?!” 

“Exactly as I said. You will become a weapon for us whether you like it or not. Already we’ve taken away your freedom, and no one will be able to find you here.” Arundel leans closer to him. “We’ve ensured that everything will go as planned.” 

Dimitri couldn’t even begin to believe what he had just heard. His lips curled up into a smile as he lets out a laugh, pushing Arundel away. As he collected himself, Dimitri’s face turns to scorn. “Me? _Serve you?_ I’ve heard many jokes, yet yours may have managed to humor me the most. I’m honestly impressed!” He stands up, this time managing to balance his wobbling legs to avoid falling again. “As if I would bow before a lowly rat like you. If anything, I will take this as another opportunity to claim Edelgards head. Her precious Empire will be consumed by the fires of hell, and I’m dragging you into it!” 

Arundel only observes as Dimitri continues, appearing to be unimpressed. 

“Hmph, no words left? No surprise as you seem to be all talk, believing I’ll nod and accept whatever you say.” He couldn’t contain his grin any longer. “The only ones I choose to serve are the dead.”

With a sigh, Arundel shakes his head and looks at the princeling with pity. “I did warn you that rebellious behavior is not welcomed within these walls,” He raises his hand, “Though I suppose eventually it would come to this.” and brings upon a snap that sends off sparks of dark magic dancing across his fingers. 

Dimitri flinches. What exactly is Arundel trying to— 

A sharp pain pierced his neck as if a pike was driven right into it. Dimitri clasps the back of his neck grunting, falling down to one knee as he loses his footing. It begins to spread across his body. 

It hurts. It really hurts. “...w-what…” is all he could manage to croak out. His whole body is screaming in agony as he finally collapses. His mind is unable to handle the excruciating pain crawling underneath his skin, taking over all of his senses. He shuts his eyes begging for it all to end. It’s too much. Goddess, please end this. Stop stop stop stop stop— 

Dimitri’s screams come to a halt as the pain finally ceases. His body starts to feel numb as it convulses on the floor, the only thing he hears his own heart pounding in his skull. A strained cry is all that leaves him.

“Expect this as the punishment for when you decide to disobey me and anyone else here, you are at the mercy of us Agarthans. You have no choices to make for yourself, and you will only follow our directions. I’m sure you’ll learn to understand that very well.” 

Dimitri recoils from the booming of Arundel’s voice in his ears. He can feel his uncle turning away and heading for the exit. The sounds of the door shifting and closing shut can be heard, and all that is left is his own quiet whimpering. He lays there for several minutes that could have been stretched to hours. He can’t tell. At some point, his eyes stopped watering and have now dried. His eyelids begin to feel heavy as exhaustion then claims him at last. 

* * *

  
  


He shivers as his senses begin to return. Desperate for warmth Dimitri drags himself off the floor and climbs onto the mat, wrapping himself with the thin blankets that were left there. So many thoughts raced through his mind, wondering if that was all real or if it was just a nightmare his mind concocted. The back of his neck is no longer feeling itchy but throbbing now. 

His body. They have already done something to his body. 

His hand shakingly reaches for his neck and he hisses as a sharp pain erupts from it again, however not as harshly as it did before. That’s why it was itching, it’s as if they implanted something there. Was it some type of spell?

It was unlike any injury he had experienced before. He felt the sensation of thousands of needles piercing through his skin, tearing at him from the inside and making him feel as if his flesh and limbs were being pulled apart. Everything around him fell to darkness and all that he could concentrate on was that torture stabbing his senses. Yet, no signs of injury could be found on his body. It remains the same as it was when he first woke up here. 

Recalling that surge of pain coursing through his body makes him shudder. 

He notices a presence watching him and turns to see the ghost of his father looking on, appearing to be disappointed. Lambert still wearing the same armor he did when he died, pierced by arrows and swords upon his back. Blood leaks from the small crevices and cracks broken down from the ambush down to the floor. His head still remains on his shoulders, yet the cut that dealt the final blow can be seen around his neck.

“W-what? Do you pity me?” Dimitri’s voice came out hoarse, his throat dry from the lack of water and the screaming he did from before.

_‘Perhaps, though all I care for is you escaping this place. Kill that traitorous bastard Arundel, I should have known not to trust him and his niece.”_

“That is the plan, Father.” Dimitri felt at ease having someone to talk to, despite how vengeful his loved ones are. Without the professor, Dedue, and the others he has no one else to confide in at this moment. He did not want to be alone. “I do not plan to give in to these people.” He says, determination filling his voice. 

_‘Very good, my child.’_

He turns to see his Mother walking towards him. She still wore that beautiful dress from that day, sadly ruined from the flames that licked at its seams. Her brown hair singed at its ends, still glowing with the embers which illuminated that night. Patricia cupped her hands around Dimitri’s face, attempting to wipe off the sweat building on it. _‘This is only a temporary setback. I know you’ll reward us with my daughter's head, surely.’_ She says with a solemn smile. 

“Yes, Mother… ” 

_‘That’s my son.’_ She guides his eyes to the bandages wrapped around his arm, urging her him to unveil it. _‘You poor thing, they’ve hurt you so much._ ’ 

Dimitri obeys and begins removing them, allowing the pieces to flutter to the ground. His eyes narrow in order to get a better look at his forearm thanks to the poor lighting, and already he could see some puncture wounds spread across it. They look to be about a day or two old. Did they take his blood or inject something? Both?

Suddenly he remembers something that has been nagging at his mind since he first woke up here. He holds out his hand and concentrates his energy forward across his arm, blue lights flickering on his palm as the Crest of Blaiddyd begins to manifest. 

For a moment it shines brightly until it begins to peter out despite the output of energy Dimitri sends in. Eventually, the light vanishes, and he is unable to form his Crest again. 

“So that’s why it wouldn’t work.” He muttered. They managed to nullify the effects of his Crest somehow. He’s practically a normal human being. As much as he cursed his strength for impeding his daily life, Dimitri felt off-balanced. The sheets he’s clutching would have been torn already, he probably could have broken that door down with brute force alone. Have a chance at killing Arundel.

Losing his strength makes him feel hollow inside. 

A shifting noise could be heard from the door. Dimitri turns his head expecting Arundel to return, but instead sees that there was a latch underneath the door opening to allow a tray to slide in. 

With hesitation, he leaves the mat still wrapped in his blankets, taking small steps forward to see that his captors have left food for him. It looks unappetizing, as it’s simply a pile of gray mush in a bowl and burnt poultry slapped onto a plate. What's most important though, was the metallic container filled with water. 

Hurriedly he picked the food up alongside the water and retreated back to his corner. Before taking a gulp he paused midway, realizing that they could have put drugs inside. He was reminded of the times when Claude pulled his pranks and tested his concoctions in his food, that was not fun. One incident lead to him haphazardly swinging his lance and fight like a fool in a tournament, even slurring his speech in front of his classmates. On the bright side, he did witness Felix laughing, even if it was at the cost of his own reputation for that week. 

While they could have put chemicals into it, he can’t help but accept the fact that he needs to eat and restore his energy. Before he knew it, he gorged down on everything and drank all of the water. 

He’s thankful for his lack of taste. The food looked unappealing and likely tasted as foul as it smelled. Probably not the worse though, it’s at least edible (sorry Flayn).

“No use idling in here.” He lifts himself up, a little more confident in being able to walk without the walls support unlike before. 

After doing some stretches he looks around at the space. Maybe he can do a little bit of investigating. Well, what little he _can do_ while stuck here at least. 

* * *

  
  


With no windows, it’s difficult to tell what time of day it was in this monotonous hellhole. Being unaware of what is going on in the outside world has been painful for Dimitri, with his only way of telling time was thanks to the daily meals and scheduled showers he receives every other day. He presumes it has already been a few weeks since he first woke up here. It could even be over a month for all he knew, what was the guarantee he woke up just a day after he was taken here? They could have knocked him out for a longer period of time. Was he even awake at some point in between? 

Well, he supposed it doesn’t matter much at the moment.

During his stay, he’s noticed how strange this place was. From the walls, lighting, and odd mechanisms that move on their own, he’d think this was just another one of his nightmares. Maybe it was a type of magic he wasn’t familiar with, though it seemed quite advanced.

Not only that, the people that dwelled here seemed inhuman. In appearance, they are very similar to the average person, but the paleness of their skin and how cold they were meant otherwise. They referred to themselves as ‘Agarthans’ a few times before and regarded him as a lesser being. Ironically, they are treating him ‘better’ than how the dungeons in Fhirdiad did. 

Dimitri recognized that they are likely to have been the same group that his class fought against before, the same ones who’ve attacked Remire and sent the professor into that strange void. Not only that, but they are probably the ones connected with Duscur as well. That secret conversation the Flame Emperor had with Monica and that stranger he witnessed gave him a lot of leeways to connect the dots. Yet, with the way Arundel has been behaving it’s difficult for him to be sure. 

He’ll have to continue to let that thought stew. Arundel working independently from Edelgard was a wild card he wasn’t expecting and is conflicting to accept, but he wouldn’t put it passed his uncle.

At least his captors were kind enough to take him out of his cell for quick five minute showers and a chance to relieve himself. The routine always took him down the same pathways, his arms restrained with cuffs to his back, surrounded by three guards and a sprightly dark mage with a bird mask. Unlike the rest of that mages cohorts, he seemed to be the most excited to be here. Dimitri knew well enough, however, that the dark mage was placed in that group for the sole purpose of unleashing that spell on his neck in case he decided to retaliate. Dimitri kept an eye out for any clues or patterns he could make use of for his planned escape as well. Otherwise, it was back in the cell where he spent the rest of his day waiting for his usual meals and supply of water. 

Strangely enough, Arundel has not visited him since their first meeting. Possibly due to the war going on outside, but unfortunately for Dimitri he wouldn’t know. The lack of information aggravating is for him since no one would explain the detail of the current situation. Even then, there was still no guarantee it would be accurate.

He often passed the time working out as a distraction, trying to keep his mind occupied outside of talking with the ghosts as usual. He already knows that his focus is on ending this war with Edelgards head stuck on a pike. The idea filled him with such enthusiasm, finally avenging his loved ones at last and letting them rest. 

Though much to his chagrin, the power of his Crest has yet to return. He hoped that it was a fluke of some sort, but seeing how it hasn’t returned in weeks makes him believe they did something to make it dysfunctional. It must have been one of the side effects of the drugs they’ve given him. Maybe it was in the food he ate, he wasn’t sure. 

A knock bangs on the door, causing Dimitri to look up during mid-push-up. He stands up and looks on in confusion. It’s too early for a shower and he hasn’t even received his meal, what's going on?

The door shifts open allowing a woman followed by a few guards to enter. Just like everyone else here, her skin was pale. Her outfit appearing to be very similar to what Cornelia wears. The guards swiftly moved passed her, grabbing Dimitri by his shoulders and holding him in place.

“What the—?”

“So this is the subject Thales was talking about.” The woman reaches and grabs him by the chin with her cold hand, jerking his head from side to side inspecting his features. Shocked by the sudden interaction Dimitri jerks his head away as she releases him. Again, she walks forward and quickly grabs him by the wrist, eyeing his arm carefully. “Surprisingly well built despite how long you’ve kept him here,” She says impassively, now looking straight into his eyes. “I’m impressed.” 

Dimitri pulled his arm away and pushes her off, making space between himself and the guards. “Who the hell are you?! Where is Arundel?!”

Without warning the guards rushed in and tackle Dimitri into the wall, wrestling him into the ground.

“S-stop! Get your filthy hands off of me!” Dimitri yelled, trying to untangle himself from the hands holding him still. The ghosts shrill at him, telling Dimitri to kill them all and to break that woman's neck. While considering it, he tenses when he feels a prickly sensation seeping into his neck. He tries to look up despite his head being held down and from the corner of his eye sees the woman staring blankly towards him. 

Her hand raised, ready to activate that horrible spell.

With no choice he immediately surrenders, allowing the guards to bind his hands with no further issue. 

“You behave now, rather not see you injured before we get the chance to see what makes you tick.” She motions for the guards to take Dimitri out of the cell, dragging him by his arms. “Careful with the subject, I need him in one piece.” Despite how commanding her tone is, she seemed very passive. Not entirely detached though, as only her wide eyes followed him with great interest as he was pulled away.

“Understood, Lady Pittacus.” said one of the guards. 

Lady Pittacus? So that's her name. Dimitri has the feeling she’s one of the people in charge of this place. What's worse is that she’s likely formidable in magic, so that's another mage he’d have to keep his eyes out for. 

Damn it, what are they going to do with him? Weeks meandering inside his cell and without any warning, they forcibly dragged him out. He can only assume that this is when they start with their experiments on him, though he would be lying if he said he was prepared. Having no clue on what they plotting is actually quite terrifying, and what's worse is that it’ll be involving his Crest. Never would he had thought someone would be after the blood in his veins. It reminds him all too much about how Sylvain worries about others going after his Crest of Gaultier, except this time it’s worse. Dimitri shook his head and tries to calm himself down. He has to be strong, falling down easily means he surrenders himself to Arundel and the rest of his lot. 

They forced Dimitri to stand up and walk through unfamiliar hallways. He’s unable to turn around, but he knows Pittacus is trailing behind them. The clack of her heels and the rubbery boots of the guard overcrowd the sound of his bare feet. They reach a dead-end where a large door stands before them, opening as they get closer to it. 

Dimitri is pushed inside and is blinded by the immense light that illuminates the room. With the lack of sunlight and natural lighting, his eyes have grown accustomed to how dim and dreary everything else was. Once his sight finally adjusted to this new environment, the first thing he noticed was a large steel table in the center of the room, built-in with straps and clamps. A few dark brown stains can be seen at the edges of the table, unsettling him.

“Hurry and lock him in. Thales should be coming soon.” Pittacus calls from behind.

Dimitri feels the bindings loosen and his arms are freed, though not a moment too soon he’s pushed towards the table and his back is forced to lay flat on top of it. Hands pull on his arms and legs to stretch them outward with his forearms facing up. Dimitri tries to look over, though his head is also forcibly held down with a strap going around his forehead. He grunts as he feels the cold metal clamps press against his skin as they shut tightly to the table, making it difficult for him to move a single muscle. He curses them, barely able to turn his head to face Pittacus. 

“Ah. Eighteen years of age I see, quite old compared to previous ones we’ve tested. If only we’ve gotten you sooner.” Pittacus says, concentrated on shuffling through her papers. “You would have made for a nice long term investment.”

Dimitri sucked his teeth in response. They were treating him as an animal, how appropriate. He can hear the ghosts whispering, sneering at him for letting his captors do as they pleased. “Investment? Didn’t think you cared for me that much.”

“On the contrary, we hope to keep these experiments moving smoothly. You’ll experience a lot of discomfort, but that is an inevitability” She bites down on her thumb, reading her notes carefully. “Expect permanent scarring as well.” 

“Apologies for my lateness, Pittacus.” 

A familiar voice. Arundel? Dimitri’s eyes flicked over to not see his uncle, but an armored stranger decorated in feathers walking in— no, actually, he recognizes that man. 

_There will be no salvation for you and your kind. Those responsible for such gruesome deeds in Duscur and Enbarr._

Those words are still etched into his memory, the confirmation he needed to know that Edelgard had some part with the attack in Duscur. She was also not alone that night. Kronya is dead now, but this man… 

_“YOU!”_

The man and Pittacus turn to Dimitri, seeing him squirm against his restraints. 

“You’re one of the people behind Duscur! _Aren’t you?!”_ He spits with outrage, fighting against his restraints. 

“Intriguing. You were correct in saying this one is prone to having strong emotional reactions.” Pittacus says flatly. She walks towards Dimitri to get a closer look until a hand grabs her shoulder.

“Careful.” The man says as he pulls her back a few steps. 

Dimitri can feel a familiar power coursing through his veins, a blue light begins to emerge from his body and hover above his chest: The Crest of Blaiddyd. The clamps holding him down start to tremor, threatening to be pulled away due to the immense strength building up. 

A sudden strike to his neck forces things to a halt, his Crest dissipates instantly as he starts to scream out as that familiar pain takes ahold of him. His body writhes against his restraints. _Please no, not again,_ he thought. Not a moment too soon and the pain actually ceases, leaving Dimitri panting. He can feel his own sweat building up and being soaked into the band on his head. They stopped his Crest from activating so easily. How powerful is that spell?

“My apologies, Thales, I should have injected the next dose into him sooner.” Pittacus turns away and rummages through some cabinets. 

"It’s fine, there's nothing to fear from this boy."

The man who goes by the name of Thales walks up to admire how weakened Dimitri was, closely observing him as the surrounding mages begin to readjust some of the loosened restraints. “No need to panic my nephew, you’re in capable hands.” He smiles.

“Nnn… nephew?” Dimitri wasn’t even sure if he heard that right. His mind is in a collective mess right now, still disoriented from the spell. That man called him nephew. “Wh-what are you… on about?”

“Think harder, who else is left in this world to call you by that?” He flexes his fingers, triggering the spell to prick at his neck again, albeit less powerfully as before but still causing the prince’s body to ache. 

Dimitri weakly wrestles against his restraints, unable to reactivate his Crest. He grits his teeth trying to resist the attack, fumbling in his own brain trying to remember who Thales is talking about. “Ngh… please… stop.” He whines, opening his eyes to look directly at the towering man. 

“Not until you tell me.”

Dimitri’s fists clenched tightly, digging his nails into his skin and drawing blood. No matter what he does, he couldn’t distract himself from the sensation of needles under his skin pulling and tugging at his insides. A light goes off in his head and a person finally came to mind. Some missing pieces of the puzzle he’s been trying to solve appeared and has finally fallen into place. “A-Arundel...you?”

Thales releases the spell, finally giving Dimitri peace. “Finally you have realized. I held no interest in keeping that appearance constantly just for your sake. Eventually, you would have to accept my true form, how convenient you managed to find out so soon.” He moves aside Dimitri’s bangs to get a better look at his face. “Truly, I regret never capturing you after Duscur. To think we left you for dead that night.”

Dimitri tries to respond back, but his body is still recovering from the spell as the energy from it slowly returns back to its original source. Capturing him during Duscur? Were they really that ingrained in his life?

“I have the vial, allow me to administer it.” Pittacus walks up with a syringe in hand and with no warning inserts the needle into Dimitri’s neck. 

Expecting something horrible Dimitri shut his eyes as he feels the prick in his skin, but to his surprise, it was actually soothing as its effects took place instantly. Whatever they have injected into him is making him feel tired, having no motivation to move his body as it calms down the tremors he was going through. 

What was he thinking about just now? 

There was something that was bothering him but… it’s not there anymore. 

He just wants to relax. 

The voices of the dead move further and further away from him, only the murmurs and shadows of his captives surround him. All of his previous worries are gone as the only thing that accompanies him now is his slow breathing. The gleam of a scalpel catches his lazy eyes, more needles hover over his body. He’s not sure about what this means. He just doesn’t care. Sleep is… more important. 

Dimitri’s heavy eyelids fall as he feels the slightest cut being made into his arm.


	2. Old Memories, New Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this a little earlier this week since I got some big projects to focus on. Hope you guys don't mind the smaller word count compared to the first chapter, I'm still trying to adjust to this whole thing and find a pace that works for me. I updated the tags a tiny bit as well. Also want to clarify that the OC's I'll be using are technically named characters already present in the game (except for one), I just sprinkled some well, character into them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

He found himself sleeping in his own chamber, back home in Fhirdiad. Blinking, he looks around seeing that things looked a bit different compared to when he left it. Old furniture that should have been replaced, curtains that looked fresh and new, even some old trinkets that were supposed to be thrown away. He jumps off his bed and stumbles onto his mirror, presented with himself dressed in black regal attire, draped in a free-flowing cape that reached his ankles. And his hair… it was tied back into a ponytail. This was two years after Duscur, he remembers now. 

“I’m… home?” He touches his face, marveled by his younger features. This must be some dream, how else would he be here? Immediately he dashes towards the doors of his chamber and bursts them open, looking to see if anyone else is around. Much to his surprise, there are. He wasn’t alone as he thought.

The castle guards standing in front of his door are caught by surprise, almost readying their weapons until they notice it was just the prince himself. “Your Highness? What is the matter?”

More memory is flooding back to him: this was shortly before he was ready to leave for the western rebellion. He was preparing for the upcoming battle. When he saw all of those civilians being stuck between the onslaught, the fire, the blood…

“Your Highness are you alright? Do you want us to call for a nurse?”

Dimitri noticed his legs were shaking, his grip on the door tightens as it starts to splinter. “I-I’m fine. Just need to take a walk.” Dimitri stated, pushing himself past the guards and fast-walked down the halls. He could see several more guards and maids walking about, busying themselves with their duties and bowing when he passes by. This may be a dream, but it feels too real. It’s as if he was transported back to the year 1178. 

“Your Highness?”

Dimitri stopped in his tracks to turn and see a younger Dedue before him, slightly shorter compared to his towering height during the school year. His white hair was long as he wore the same standard uniform he adorned once he became vassal. This whole situation is becoming too strange for his liking. 

“What is the matter, Your Highness? You seem pale today, are you feeling ill? I can prepare some herbal tea and lunch for you if you’d like.”

Dimitri shook his head and looked to the carpeted floor, his palm reaching for his head. What is going on here? He wants to wake up but something in him is refusing to allow it. “No Dedue, it’s probably another one of my headaches is all. Just the tea is fine…” 

“Have you been losing sleep again? It’s best that you remain in your room then, too much stress for your body isn’t good.”

Maybe Dedue is right. Wandering around the castle hoping for this dream to end isn’t doing anything. Who knows, it could be over soon. “Yes, you may be right. I guess I do put too much of habit staying up late—” Just then, he sensed something moving from the end of the hallway. Dimitri spun around to see a child peeking around the corner. Big blue eyes, shoulder-length hair, wearing regal attire… 

That’s his younger self. Back when he was thirteen.

The Young Dimitri’s eyes widened and he dashes around the corner out of sight. 

“Hold on! Stop!” Dimitri runs down the hall, ignoring Dedue’s calls asking him what he was doing. Why is there a younger version of himself wandering about now? Could his mind just be playing another one of those tricks? Could the child be related to whats going on? He has to be sure, better safe than sorry if he decides to ignore this. Dimitri catches sight of the child, who seems to be heading for a dead-end around another corner.

“Wait! I just want to talk!” Dimitri calls out, though unfortunately the child doesn’t respond and ignores him. All he got in return was the child looking back in fear, making a sharp right turn away from his view. A scream could be heard alongside a loud cracking noise, forcing Dimitri to run faster until he made it to the end as well. He could feel the acid rising up to his throat as he was presented with the display before him.

His younger self was face down in a pool of blood, a figure dressed in red and black of the Flame Emperor stood above the body. The axe swayed from side to side, dripping blood and soaking the blue carpet. She didn’t wear her mask as there was no need to, her identity was all too clear. 

A bundle of emotions threatens to explode out of his chest as he glares at her, looking back at her axe as she swings it to be rid of the blood on its edge. He wanted to charge at her, but his body absolutely refused to move. 

As if someone blew a torch out, everything goes to black. 

* * *

A headache was the first thing he felt, his hand reaching up to touch his drenched forehead. He slides off the bangs stuck to his face, groaning as the soreness of his arm muscles begins to set in. As much as he wants to, his eyes refuse to open up.

“...rejecting…”

Dimitri hears voices, but not of the dead. Whatever they are, they are making the throbbing pain even worse. He could already feel something vile threatening to come up his throat. Footsteps shuffle around him as all of a sudden someone grabs his arm and pulls it away, making him flinch as small sparks of pain travels throughout it. Some sort of cloth is being wrapped around it.

“...too early…must wait...”

Gradually his eyes open, though unfortunately they are welcomed by an intense light shining above him. He reaches to cover them halfway with his other arm as the first was still being held, trying to ignore how much they ached. Though not a moment too soon that was also pulled away, leaving Dimitri only to move the rest of his body in distress. His vision is blurred, unable to discern beyond the dark blobs overseeing him. 

“...hold still.” A firm voice above him said, and soon after more hands joined in to hold down his limbs.

He’s starting to remember where he was when he fell asleep. Taken to a white room and strapped down for some experiment… and succumbing to the drugs they injected into him. Then there was that terrible dream. Unfortunately, it seems he’s still here lying on the operating table, the cool touch making contact with his skin sends shivers into his core. 

At last, his arms are finally put down to rest. As much as he wanted to move now that he was free, his body says otherwise. A small cold hand caresses down his cheek and rests on his chin, turning his head to the side. His vision starts to clear and focus, realizing it was Pittacus. 

Pittacus tilts her head, her eyes steadily observing him closely. “Don’t move too much, the drugs I gave you are still taking a heavy effect on your body. I’ll have my assistants bring you back to your cell shortly.” 

Dimitri blinks, distinctly remembering she was the one who put him to sleep. He couldn’t help but look down at his arms to see what they’ve done to him. 

Splatters of blood scattered around the edge of the table. His arms are completely wrapped up in gauze, while the rest of his body thankfully seems completely untouched save for a few splotches of red staining his white garb. At most, his body just feels stiff because of the drugs they forced upon him. “What… did you do to me?” He whispered. 

“We only made some minor adjustments in your system; I stitched up the incisions that have been done and used a minimal amount of healing magic. I recommend resting so your body does most of the work in assimilating the changes we’ve made.” Regardless of what she said, her tone was consistently flat. 

“As you were saying, Pittacus?” A voice calls from behind, likely belonging to Thales.

“Ah yes. Of course.” She jolts back to face Thales, shuffling through a mish-mash of notes in her hands. “He’s definitely compatible based on what we found, Solon was correct in choosing him as one of the potential subjects. That means we will be able to proceed with the first phase as planned.”

“Excellent then. I’ll trust him under your care while I’m absent, expect me to visit next moon to see the progress your group has made.”

Bubbles of anger rise up to Dimitri’s chest upon seeing those two. Talking casually about how they were testing on him, having no qualms about wasting away human lives. 

It revolts him. 

“W-wait you…” Dimitri attempts to push himself off the table glaring intently at Thales. He ignores his body’s pleas to stop moving as he sits upon the table and shoves away the dark mages that surround him. Pain be damned, he’s going to kill that man right here and _now._ He launches himself off the table focusing on Thales, clawing out and nearly reaching the pale man’s face until a tug on the back of his shirt pulls Dimitri back. 

Dimitri is slammed against the table’s edge as the mages try to pull his arms around to restrain him. _Pointless,_ Dimitri thought as he manages to free one of his arms, punching one square in the jaw. Dimitri then grabs the man’s face and smashes it into a masked mages head who was holding him at the opposite end. Despite the obvious yelps in pain the mage still manages to keep hold of the arm. Soon, a few more people swarm in to try to hold the prince down back to the table. They manage to drag him on top of the surface and pull around straps across his chest and limbs.

Having not given up yet, Dimitri jerks his head upwards to one of the flailing arms in front of him and bites it. Hard. 

“Get him off! GET HIM OFF!” The bitten mage shrills, trying to wrench himself away.

Dimitri continues to crunch down harder, feeling the warm liquid escape through the wound and the smell of iron leak into his nose. Had he still have his strength he would have ripped that arm off by now. Fists relentlessly pound on Dimitri’s skull as an effort to make him release the bite, though he still refused to let go of his hold. 

“You fools! Use magic on him!” Thales calls out. 

A palm is placed on his stomach and electric shock goes through, causing Dimitri to gasp out as the waves travel through his body. He loses hold of the arm and spits out some blood in retaliation, some trickling down to his chin. “All of you… go to hell!” 

_‘What was that attempt?’_

_‘Weak child…_ ’

Again they are mocking him. Laughing at his fruitless attempt at fighting back. How long must he continue to live with these regrets continuously tearing at his heart? Constantly reminding him of how much of a failure he is? 

“I will say this once and only once,” Thales’ voice was calm, but from the looks of his face, it was easy to see he was fuming. “Do not expect Pittacus, Amelius, or me to be putting him down with the curse every time he resists.”

“Especially if he’s in a state of weakness,” Pittacus adds on. “The curse could potentially kill if it’s misused. A weak spell like I executed just now is all you need.”

The mages all nod in response, even the one clutching his bleeding arm.

Pittacus walks over to Dimitri and passes her hand across his bandaged arm which already has been spotted with blood, causing him to flinch in reaction. “Oh dear, you’ve already opened up your wounds. Who would have known you’d have the energy to move your body this much after an operation? I’ll have to use heavier doses next time.” She bites at her thumb, once again distracted by her notes. “Still, quite fascinating to see how much energy you have.”

“It seems you were too kind to remove the restraints early, I recommend educating the prince during my absence.” Thales directed towards Pittacus. 

“Educate…” Dimitri scoffed.

Thales turns to him, looking to be amused. “Oh? Feeling the need to flaunt that arrogant behavior? Humorous considering that poor display of spirit you had hours before. Begging for me to stop the curse.”

 _‘He’s correct. Whatever happened to not giving in?’_ Lambert sneered. 

Dimitri ignored his Father’s remark, directing his attention only towards Thales. “A farce. I won’t let any of your attempts to control me come to fruition, not as long as I plan to kill you and everyone else in here.”

Almost everyone around him laughs at his comment, thinking that he’s spouting nonsense once again. Thales chuckles as he shakes his head, raising his hand signaling for the laughter to stop. “Poor child, you fail to understand the weight of the situation you’re in. Nevertheless, I must take my leave. It would be suspicious if Volkard von Arundel has gone missing amidst the ongoing war.”

Dimitri’s eyes narrowed, knowing that this will be the last time he’ll be seeing his uncle— no, this _monster_ — until the next moon. “And I assume you won’t be telling that woman that you have me captive here?”

Thales dismissively waves his hand as he turns to the door. “You already know that answer.” He disappears through the exit, leaving Dimitri alone with Pittacus and the rest of her assistants.

Suddenly a prick could be felt on Dimitri’s neck and he reflexively moves his head away just as Pittacus stood back for her safety. Much to his irritation, he starts to feel tired again.

“Do not worry, I’m just putting you under a daze. I rather not have you attacking anyone again as I’m fixing your bandages.”

He blows air out of his nose and looks away from her, having no choice but to accept the effects of the drug overtaking him. 

...

With no issue he wakes back in his cell, this time actually laying on his sleeping mat. 

He sat up and shakenly raised his arms to see that the bandages were replaced as Pittacus promised, free of any blood spotting he caused from before. They feel sensitive as if something is crawling underneath his skin, begging for him to scratch at them. He decides to peel back one of the layers of gauze and see’s that there are indeed some stitches stretching across the arm, wondering what exactly they did that warranted not using a complete healing spell. Whispers from the ghosts seep into his ear, commenting on how pitiful it was for him to lie there and take it.

Images of needles and knives carving into his body float into his vision, shadows of those mages wearing masks looming over him, voices of the departed fading away… that experience was all too horrifying. He couldn’t move nor fight back, he felt so alone when the ghosts abandoned him.

Dimitri sighed as he rests his head against the wall, regretting not taking much of an opportunity to barrage Thales with questions earlier. Finding out that his uncle was another one of those Agarthans should shock him but… looking back it all makes sense. 

Church donations stopped, meetings with his Father became more and more inconsistent and less frequent, and the sudden announcement that he was leaving for Enbarr. The act was frighteningly too perfect, too close to the original. Or was he always Thales and no one realized?

What if even Edelgard doesn’t know?

Damn it, why is he worried about her all of the sudden? She’s still conspiring with Thales’ group. She would know, she admitted as much before. Yet… she spoke about it with a tone of scorn. As if even she didn’t trust them. What is their alliance then, are they even on the same side? The more he’s thinking about it, the less sense this is all starting to make. Maybe it was that nightmare he had earlier affecting him which ended with her killing his younger self. He was sure that was an older memory, but the way it progressed became stranger as it continued on. Forget about it, he needs to push this thought away.

Dimitri thinks about his classmates as he’s concerned about their current status. Surely they are still alive, otherwise, their ghosts would have been haunting him by now. He hopes that Dedue is doing fine. Those traitors may target his vassal now that the prince has been ‘executed’ but Dimitri knows that he should be fine, Dedue wouldn’t fall so easily. He and the rest of the Blue Lions are strong, stronger than Dimitri himself. A pitiful man who has nothing more to live for but avenging for the dead that has anchored him to this existence, probably the whole reason why he’s still alive after all that’s happened. Without those ghosts, he serves no other purpose. 

Though he’s still worried about one other person: Professor Byleth.

When Dimitri and the rest of the class reunited before abandoning Garreg Mach, they realized that the Professor was nowhere to be found. He was last seen with Lady Rhea, yet she also disappeared after the battle when those demonic beasts showed themselves. The class split afterward, everyone headed back to their homes and territories in preparation for the war. Dimitri had hoped that maybe they would have gotten the word about what happened to their professor, though unfortunately, he wouldn’t know. A few days after he returned to Fhirdiad he was imprisoned for murdering his uncle. 

His ghost hasn’t shown himself thankfully, so that may be an indication that he’s alive somewhere, maybe just injured. As someone who grew up as a mercenary, the Professor was so knowledgeable about the battlefield. It gave Dimitri a whole new perspective on how to approach the enemy, even though he did sometimes does fall back into his terrible habit of charging on ahead. He learned a lot from that man.

Battle strategies, sword techniques he’s never seen before, even magic of all things… 

Wait. Magic.

Maybe it’s just a stroke of inspiration but, could he possibly…? 

Dimitri holds up his hand, recalling the Professor’s words when learning this skill. Concentrating what little energy he had until he saw sparks— small crackles of electricity jumping around his palm. Of course, he has an affinity for that type like Felix does. Why hasn’t he thought of this sooner?

He can practice magic while in here! He won’t be able to match to the expertise half of his class could, but it’s still something. Anything that’ll give him an upper hand to try escaping again, the enemy wouldn’t even expect it either since he’s a physical fighter. It would take a while, but what else could he do during these long hours confined to this space? He has to do whatever it takes to get out of here.

So that he can kill Edelgard. 

A loud shuffling noise could be heard as the door shaft opens allowing for a tray of food to slide in, making Dimitri jump in reaction. “...It’s only food. Calm down.” He tells himself. No one caught him hopefully. 

He pulls over the tray and starts chewing the food mindlessly, thinking about ways he could take advantage of the guards here. Truthfully he wants to get out of here as soon as possible, but the risk outweighs the reward. If they want to believe they are taking advantage of him, then he’ll have to play their game and make them believe he’s compliant. While it’s impossible for him to be able to tell the time in here, he does keep a mental note of mealtimes, showers, and now those dreaded experiments he knows that’ll continue. 

Reaching for the so-called curse on his neck, he noticed that it no longer hurt to touch it like before. There doesn’t seem to be any bumps of some sort either, just smooth skin. If only he had a mirror to see if any markings were left on it. And for his Crest… he may have an idea of what’s stopping him from using it. The curse can stop it, but he’s sure that’s not what’s preventing him specifically. It’s got to be one of those drugs they’re injecting into him. If he could time when his strength returns, then that’ll be an effective advantage. 

Dimitri takes a deep breath and pushes away his tray as the ghosts hover around and speak in hushed tones, wondering what he plans to do. He lies on the mat, outstretching one of his arms and looks towards his hand. Patience, that’s what he needs. 

* * *

A little over a week has passed, and Dimitri once again was visited by the dark mage, who he now knows goes by the name Amelius. Since that man always wears a bird mask, it’s hard to see what he’s always feeling. Unlike Pittacus, the man as expressive and overly excitable in contrast to the serious demeanor most others carry here. 

“Alright, princeling, let’s get you checked up!” He holds out a hand for Dimitri, only to have the latter swat it away. 

“Just hurry and take me there, I don’t take interest in playing games with you.” Dimitri snaps. 

Amelius’ excitement deflates as his shoulders slump down. “Well, you’re no fun as always. Fine, we’ll take you there ‘Your Highness.’” He mocks as the guards place the cuffs on Dimitri. 

Once he was taken to the same room as before, he was guided to a chair he didn’t notice the first time. The assistants went to work and started to remove the bandages and stitches in Dimitri’s arms, inspecting them to see if they had healed properly. After determining his condition was fine, then came the questions. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Irritated.”

“Have you felt sick?”

“No.” 

“Have you ever felt hungry?”

“Slightly,” Dimitri says with disinterest. Getting asked several unnecessary questions becoming tiring, they seem intent on keeping tabs on everything going on with him. “Are we done yet?”

“Just about.” The assistant flips over to another page and checks off something. “What is your name?”

Frowning, Dimitri looked up at the assistant. “Excuse me?”

“Your name?”

He blinks and decides to answer anyway. “Dimitri…?” That was odd, why of all things did they need to ask him _that_?

The assistant nods off to Amelius, signaling him that it was time to take Dimitri to a whole new separate area of the hideout they were in. The whole space looked to be forming the shape of a circle, the walls lined with metal gates with windows accompanying them. As Dimitri passed by one he wanted to look through it, but they all seemed to be completely blacked out by some shudders. He was then stopped, realizing they have finally made their destination. The gate before him opened, and ahead he could see that Pittacus was waiting for him. Some chains are also dispersed across the floor on top of some sort of flat block in the center of the room too.

“Welcome to the testing chamber, I would request that you lie down in the center block for me, please.” Pittacus gestures Dimitri to it. “Make sure you lock him down well, he’ll definitely struggle a lot during this.”

Dimitri held the sudden urge to resist thanks to the constant chants the ghosts bring upon his ears, but he shakes off their wails as he did as directed. He walks to the platform and lies on it as instructed and allowed for the assistants to carry out the rest. Similar to how he was strapped down on the operating table, Dimitri had his limbs outstretched across the block, chains tightening as an assurance that he couldn’t move. He gulped down as Pittacus brought over a new, unfamiliar injection and introduced to into his system. Already he could tell the effects were the opposite, making his muscles ache and his arms in particular start to itch. 

“Use your Crest, and do not stop.” 

“What?”

“I said use your Crest. I want you to continuously activate it for as long as possible.”

Dimitri couldn’t believe what she was saying. He could just use it however he pleased? “Hold on, what’s the catch here? Are you confident that I won’t use it to escape?”

“Very much so, if you attempt to do so—”

“There we be consequences, I know.” As unreadable she may seem, he knows that she’s not someone to be tested. As asked, he activates his Crest with no issue. It hovered above him for a moment, then vanishes. As familiar as it felt, his body soon after starts feel uncomfortable from that sudden use. 

“Continue.” 

Dimitri scowls at her for the ridiculous request she’s making. “You do know that I cannot just continue using it that frequently, right? I’m a minor bearer.”

“We are trying to change that.” Pittacus states. “I don’t believe Thales has mentioned it to you, so I will: Our plan is to make you a major Crest bearer. To do that, we are reconstructing your blood so that it can reach peak performance. If you are to become a weapon for us to use, we need blood that holds value and someone with the potential to annihilate anything we give the order to.” 

“Major? Have you people gone mad?! Something like that shouldn’t even be possible—”

“It is.” Pittacus cut’s him off. “Before Solon departed, one of his main studies were focused on Crests. Years ago we did plenty of testing regarding them, particularly with implanting them into subjects so that they could hold two at once. Of course, they held a heavy burden on the body and dramatically shortened the average life span. There was no guarantee that one would survive the process.”

“You… you’ve been doing this for years?” Dimitri pulls on the chains, causing them to creak. “Have you no shame?!”

Pittacus cocks her head as her eye twitches for a split second. “Shame? Beasts are only pawns to us. Disposable, replaceable, easy to control. Hence why we conduct these experiments as you beasts are the pieces we move on this board.” She taps her thumb against her lips pondering over something, stopping as she looks to the ceiling. “I recall when Solon mentioned you after he destroyed that village. Such powerful anger as he described after killing several of his lovely experiments in one fell swoop. He described you as an untamed beast that thirsted for his blood, destroying everything in your path.”

“Why you…!”

Pittacus raised her hand as sparks of dark magic bounced across her fingers. “Let’s go back to this experiment, shall we?”

As expected, the pain rushes throughout his nerves, but this time he could feel the energy within his body pulsing outwards. Something was threatening to tear out of him. He couldn’t contain his screams as the blue flash appears and his Crest is summoned again, and again, and again. His blood is on fire as he involuntarily activates it several more times as he squirms against his restraints. All that took over his vision was the repeated flashing of Blaiddyd. 

… 

“Hmm, it may not be an accurate estimate of activation chances but we at least have confirmation that the process is working as intended. When coupled with the curse, it seems to work almost as a command if we lower the intensity.”

“So what you’re essentially saying is you got the brat under your fingertips?”

“More or less, Amelius.” 

Dimitri could feel himself being lifted off the platform, his wrists and ankles sore as they start to bleed out. His heart is still beating rapidly as he takes deep breathes in and out. As he’s being dragged across the floor, droplets of sweat and blood fall to the ground. Leaving behind the broken chains that were torn off the floor.

“I would have preferred if he activated it himself, but we’ll attempt it again next time.”

“How long is it gonna take then? That war is going to drag on while he’s cooped up in here.” 

“He’s the only bearer of Blaiddyd we have, and he’s not ready to have his blood shared yet until we’re sure the transformation is finished. I wish to take time until he’s ready. At any rate, no one will be able to find him”

His bangs are brushed aside, forcing him to come face to face with Pittacus who’s eyes bore straight into his. 

“Let’s fix those wounds of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor guy is going through a lot. 
> 
> A little heads up that POV will be switching the next chapter as there are some things going on during the war you might want to see. Don't worry as most of this fic will still be focused on Dimitri and his plan to escape, there is just some stuff I have planned that may turn this fic into a series. By the next chapter or two, you may see something pop up.
> 
> Update: Next chapter will be delayed to next week, finals are taking up my time so I need to get those out of the way! It's mostly editing I need to do, so hopefully after chapter 3 comes out, 4 isnt too far behind.


	3. A Fragment of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm so sorry for how late this update is. Right after my finals were over I needed some rest, especially since one of my arms started to hurt for some reason. Then there was Christmas and I wanted to spend time with my family... yeah December is quite the busy month. BUT, I still kept this fic in mind regardless. I felt bad for keeping you guys waiting. This chapter in particular was a struggle to edit down since I couldn't be satisfied, but damn it I gotta push on, especially with new years around the corner. Apologies if you see any mistakes.

The moment His Highness was taken away, Dedue knew he failed his duty as a vassal.

It was so sudden. Cornelia and her soldiers stormed into Dimitri’s chambers and accused him of murdering Grand Duke Rufus, his uncle, in a gruesome fashion. Of course, this was false. Despite Dimitri’s low opinions towards Rufus, Dedue knew that His Highness would have never raised a hand against the only other family member he had left. No disagreement would have led to regicide. He always stood by Dimitri’s side and made sure to remain close once the war was declared by Edelgard. His Highness was never even near where the incident had occurred. Not much to his surprise, Dedue’s words were dismissed due to his origins and status. All he could do was watch as they restrained and took away Dimitri and soon enough, his execution was announced to take place in the forthcoming days. 

He felt so powerless. Powerless to protect the one who saved his life years ago. 

Dedue couldn’t sit still and accept this. He needed to save the His Highness, his savior, and take back the Kingdom from that wicked witch Cornelia. She convinced many that Dimitri was far too unstable to be their king once news about regent’s death spread, gathering a following that supports her rule and planned affiliation with the Empire. They even kicked him out of the castle stating that his service was no longer needed, blocking any if all access and chances for him to make contact with Dimitri. 

He refuses to allow this to go by, not without a fight. 

So imagine his surprise when he got the message from the people of Duscur who tried to stage an uprising moons back during his school year, the ones he and Dimitri saved from needless death against the Kingdom army. After news broke out of the prince being detained and stated for execution, one of the soldiers made contact with Dedue stating that the general wished to speak with him.

Now Dedue finds himself in a Duscur camp located in the outskirts of Fhirdiad, away from Cornelia’s watchful eye as her focus is on the capital’s current state. As he’s being lead by one of the soldiers across the camp, Dedue takes in his surroundings. Numerous tents are pitched up with symbols representative of their war god hung over their entrances, beloved patterns etched across the folds of the tents as signs of good luck wishes for their wellbeing. There are mostly men residing in the camp, but a few women are also present that are helping with the preparations. No children are around, likely due to the close proximity they are to the capital, yet some who have reached the old fragile age are also amongst the inhabitants. 

He feels almost at home again as it’s been a long time since he’s been able to walk amongst his own people. Back in those times when he played and looked after his siblings, running across the beautiful fields of flowers. He remembers watching as his mom prepared dinner and his father coming back from another day working in the mines. Everyone gathering together to enjoy another wonderful meal and finally ending the day looking up at the vast night sky, relaxing and shaping the stars to the image of their gods. It felt like forever ago, has it really been five years since the Tragedy?

“Right this way, the general is waiting for you in here.” The soldier pipes up, snapping Dedue back to reality. He was so caught up reminiscing in the past that he didn’t notice that they finally made it to the larger tent at the end of the camp. The soldier opens the entrance to allow Dedue to enter inside. “General, I have brought Dedue Molinaro as requested.”

A familiar man donned in heavy armor is hunched over a map centered on top of a war table, who simply nodded in response. “Thank you, you are dismissed.” He says, still focused on the contents of the map. The soldier nods back in response and exits the tent, leaving Dedue alone with the general. 

The tent was silent, with a few occasional grunts from the general as he still continues to move pieces across the map. Deciding that he’s waited long enough, Dedue coughs into his fist to catch the general’s attention. The general jumped, causing a few pieces he was holding to fall to the ground, his eyes dashing around to finally see that Dedue was waiting for him. 

“O-oh gods, my apologies young man, I was far too engrossed into that map.” He walks around the table and holds his hand out for a handshake, the latter accepting to shake back. “Collier is my name, I’m sure you remember me well.”

“I do. You were that general that lead the uprising back in Duscur. As I recalled, you mentioned not wanting to cross paths again.”

Collier nods and removes his helmet, revealing his light brown hair. “I have, but things have changed since then. I— no,  _ we  _ wish to support you and assist in rescuing the prince in any way possible.”

“I have heard from your message and I’m appreciative that you wish to lend your aid. Yet, I can’t help but be at lost here.”

“At lost?”

“Yes. Why the sudden care for His Highness? For the concern over me, a man who is considered to be a traitor to his own people?”

Collier brushes his hand past his hair and sighs, his mouth thinning as he gathers his thoughts. “I understand your worries, but I promise that this comes from a good place. I admit, at the time I brushed away you and the prince’s words believing that you lot were no different from the rest of those monsters that destroyed our lands. But my men have convinced me that you were only trying to open our eyes to the bigger picture: that our lives weren’t worth throwing away recklessly.”

Admittingly, this is a surprise to Dedue. To see this turn around is something he did want, but never expected it to happen so soon. 

“If a brother of our people decided to choose to serve under the son of the royal family and speak so highly of him, then my instinct tells that you have your reasons to still be faithful despite these accusations he’s gained.”

“He was framed,” Dedue interjects. “I’ve known that man since the day of the Tragedy and knew he was different from the rest. He pulled me away from the darkness when I thought there was no light to be found.” Dedue clenches his fist as he focuses his vision towards his feet. “You called me naive for this before, but what I told you before is true: He will create a kingdom where both people of Duscur and Faerghus can prosper.” He couldn’t help but let his frustration drip from his words, the heavy regret still clinging to his chest. Collier remained silent for that moment, allowing Dedue some time to calm himself down. 

“Where both can prosper...” Collier repeats. “I see that you care for him and believe strongly in his words.”

“I do. His Highness is the one who will guide the Kingdom towards a better future, but that will not happen if I stay put here.”

Collier grins as he walks over and slaps his hand on Dedue’s back, passing along an axe that he had equipped. “Alright then, those are the words I needed to hear! You’ve cemented my stance, we will save that prince of yours.”

“Wait, you mean—?”

“I wanted to be sure that your conviction is strong enough because what we are about to do will likely lead to some losses of our brothers. Like I’ve said, I am grateful that your group saved us before so I want to return the favor and do the same for you in turn. Consider it our way of saying thank you.”

“General…” Dedue couldn’t believe it. Just yesterday he was prepared to go in alone and risk his life for Dimitri, but now he has the support of his people who before likely distrusted him. To think they are willing to sacrifice so much for them, for a Kingdom that they very well still despised. It’s overwhelming.

“You have my gratitude.” Dedue finally responds with.

Collier chuckles as he drags the young man towards the table. “Don’t worry too much about it, we were preparing here for a reason. Now that you are here the real planning can begin.” He moves aside some of the pieces he laid out, allowing Dedue to get a better look at the map being displayed before him. 

His eyes widen when he realizes what it was. “A map of the castle interior? Where did you find this?”

Collier chuckles as he pushes the pieces into a pile and picks up a stick. “Some red-headed merchant gave it to us, though we did need to spare a hefty amount of gold considering this is information not even available to even some nobles within the court. At least, that’s what that merchant girl told us.”

“This is all too much, there was no need of doing this.”

“Again Molinaro, we’re doing this to repay you and the prince. Plus, who knows what will become of the people of Duscur once the Empire takes over Fodlan? It’s too early in this war to back down.”

Dedue sighed, finally relenting. “Very well. What are the plans so far?”

The general picks up a stick and starts pinpointing key areas on the map. “I’m sure you know this place fairly well so I won’t barrage you with the insignificant details I’ll be filling in for my men. The main plan to set a distraction so we could infiltrate the castle. You are aware of where most of the security is focused?”

Dedue nods, circling areas with his finger. “Yes. Since I was removed and kicked out after His Highness’ capture, security has especially been increased around the entrance. It’ll be difficult to move past the first layer of defense.”

“Agreed, which is why the men being sent upfront will be a distraction. I also plan to send down a few more here and here.” Collier points towards alternate entrances pathways towards the castle. 

“Will we be coming along those troops as well?”

“Somewhat, but I plan to have our group split so you will be able to track the prince down, and escape through a secret underground route. It’s the reason why this map is valuable in the first place.” He pulls out another map and places it on the side. “This map of the capital doesn’t show it, but there is a secret underground passageway leading straight into the dungeons of the castle, as seen here.” He traces his finger down a strange path underneath the castles blueprints, one that Dedue has never seen before.

“This is a surprise to me, I don’t think even His Highness knew of this.”

“Have you ever been to the dungeons before?”

“Once, however that was nearly three years ago after an uprising in the western part of the Kingdom. I never knew such a passageway existed.”

“Heh, it’s something that’s been largely forgotten. Newer versions of the castle blueprints don’t show it, but this old one does. It’s why it comes at such a high price; a very valuable piece of information that could jeopardize the livelihoods of the Blaiddyd royalty.” His facial expression turns heavy. “Which is why I’m passing this to you before we set off, it’s a crucial piece of information that shouldn’t be traded so easily. I would not be surprised if they seal it off once we escape.”

“Perhaps to be sure, we find a different exit than from where we came. I fear if these tunnels are small it’d be difficult to traverse for multiple people.” Dedue looks away concerned. “I’m also worried about his current condition. I fear that they may have done something to him while he’s captured, especially since his execution date rears its head.”

“Do not worry. We’ll do what we can to ensure he makes it out safely.” 

“However, there’s one thing I wish you guys to promise to me.”

“Hmm? And what could that be?”

Dedue grips the axe he’s holding, giving Collier a determined look. “Do not throw your lives away. Any of you. I am grateful for the support you’ve given me and for the future of His Highness’ kingdom, however I do not want to see any more of my people fall.” He closes his eyes, relaxing his grip on the weapon. “I know you are already prepared to trade your lives for this cause, yet…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, still feeling 

For a while, Collier does not respond. At last, he finally grins and smacks Dedue’s arm. “No need to fear, we know very well what we are getting into. The gods will help us, though in the end, it’s our job to ensure we make it through.”

He’s right, it’s not worth worrying over it. They just need to do it, otherwise, it’ll be too late. Finally, Dedue smiles. “Understood.”

* * *

It’s early morning, the day before the execution and the preparations have fallen into place. The sun has yet to have risen as the Duscur army headed to Fhirdiad to position themselves for the assault, while the noncombatants tear down the camp and leave for the eastern territories away from the capital. Some of the soldiers and spies already stationed at the capital have been relaying messages on what has been going on inside. Rumors being passed around mentioning that House Rowe may be trying to gain favors with Cornelia, a sign that changes are already imminent. 

Collier assigned a squad to follow Dedue and support him during their break-in, while the main force will be tasked with attacking the castle head-on as a distraction. Just to buy enough time for Dedue to reach the dungeons and rescue Dimitri.

“As you’ve mentioned before, they may have tortured him.” Collier brings up as they marched through the forest, the glow of twilight beginning to stretch across the sky. “He could be losing his fingers, a leg, arm—anything. I’ll have one of our medics pass along some vulnerary’s and concoctions for you to keep just in case, but I’m sure you’ll know what’s best for the situation once you find him.”

Dedue nods in response though kept focused on the path ahead. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Collier was right in that it’s likely they did hurt Dimitri. He only prays that Dimitri’s condition is not as grim as described.  _ Please, Your Highness, stay strong until we make it to you, _ he thinks to himself. 

Once they made it inside the walls of the capital through various means, the army starts to split into groups and head different ways. Collier signals that he’ll be heading off to his position and leaves with his men, only Dedue and his squad being the only ones left. Dedue leads his group towards a bundle of bushes at the side of an old building, which is a way off from the castle, and moves aside some dying vines obscuring a rusted doorway. Easily the lock is broken off with a downward swing of his axe, and urges his men to help with moving the door open. As instructed, some of them stay behind with horses in case things went wrong.

“I shouldn’t be long, but if anything happens and we do not make it out: take the horses and leave. I don’t want to see any more of my brothers fall.”

The men nodded back to Dedue, understanding his orders and stayed put as he enters the tunnel. With a torch alit, he heads down.

Considering Dedue’s height was a head above the tunnels, he was forced to keep himself hunched over. Just as he concerned, the space would be very difficult to traverse through if they were being chased during their escape. The walls are far too small, even Dimitri would struggle to go through this. He’ll likely have to take one of the alternate routes to reach the horses. His pace quickens as he hears explosions overhead, meaning it is now sunrise and the plan has begun. Dedue finally makes it to another gate and tears open the door, finding himself in one of the storage rooms in the castle. 

With haste, he climbs up the stairs and finds himself in one of the many hallways of the castle. He dashes down quickly recalling where the prison was, knowing it was in one of the more desolate sections rarely visited. Before turning the corner he stops, peaking over slightly to see only two guards are stationed in front of the door leading to the dungeon. With no hesitation, he pulls out a handaxe and flings it into one of the guards, tearing through his armor and hitting flesh. As the second guard panics and realizes they were being attacked, Dedue jumps in and brings upon a heavy swing into him. The guard is crushed against the wall and his movement stops. The first guard still lies on the ground bleeding and struggling to stand. Dedue kneels down and promptly snaps his neck, snuffing out what little life was left in the man.

“Apologies, but this is the fate you’ve condemned yourselves to the moment you betrayed him.” Dedue mutters as he rummages through their belongings finding a ring of keys, two of which that looked very distinct compared to the rest.

He pushes the bodies aside and unlocks the door, greeted by a stairwell leading down to darkness below. Picking up one of the torches hanging overhead, he descends down the familiar space and reaches the basement floor. Multiple unused prison cells are laid out in rows, bars rusting away and becoming useless. Ahead a murmuring voice could be heard, alerting Dedue on which way to go as he knew instantly who it was. He jogged down the mazelike path of the dungeon, making a sharp right turn as the voice got louder. 

“N-no… Uncle Rufus, I swear…” 

There, at the end of the hallway, a hunched over figure could be seen kneeling down behind the bars, arms hanged up high by chains. 

Dimitri. 

“Father I didn’t… I didn’t know. I was too late…” His voice was hollow, not noticing someone else was here.

“Your Highness!” Dedue hissed, not wanting to yell out in case of the echo reverberates to the upper floor. 

Dimitri’s body jolts and he looks up, his eyes turning wide with his mouth agape. “D… Dedue? You’re here!” 

Dedue runs to the cell, nearly placing his hands on the bars until he notices a short spark of magic grow alight when he makes near contact. 

“Don’t,” Dimitri says sharply. “It’s dark magic… I’ve tried it the first time.” He glances over to his arms, indicating the little sparks bouncing across his arms. It’s difficult to tell thanks to how dim it is, but he appears to be bleeding. Dimitri shudders under his breath and looks back up to Dedue, his bright blue eyes filled with worry upon seeing his vassal before him. “Why did you come? It’s too dangerous to be here if Cornelia catches you she’ll—”

A loud crackling sound fills the room as Dedue smashes his axe against the bars, the force threatening to push him back until he unleashes another swing against the locks. Seeing that his weapon was useless, he tries one of the keys instead and the lock reacts, clicking open and causing the magic to fizzle away. Immediately Dedue moves in to start working on the chains.

“My apologies Your Highness, but there’s no time. We must leave this place now.” 

“Dedue…” 

The keys thankfully worked and seemed to have dispelled the magic enchanted on the chains as well, causing Dimitri to nearly fall forward until Dedue catches him in time. He pulls out a concoction from his pouch and brings it to Dimitri’s lips, urging him to drink one. 

“You’ll need to be able to walk on your own, can you do that?”

With a nod, Dimitri gulps down the medicine too quickly and catches himself coughing, Dedue then patting his back to elevate his breathing. 

“Easy, easy.”

Dimitri gasps for air and lifts himself without the need of Dedues arm and holds to the cobblestone wall for support. “Th...thank you, Dedue. Let’s hurry.”

Confirming that Dimitri had all of his limbs intact, they both make way to the exit where the two dead guards were left at. There was no need to exchange words to explain the scene to him, as he understood very well that it was something that was inevitable. Dimitri leans down and picks up the bloodied spears to arm himself, proceeding to follow Dedue.

Once they made it there it already appears that the sun is up, it’s golden light passing through the intricately designed windows of the castle. It isn’t until now Dedue finally has a grasp on the current condition the prince is in once he looked back. His blonde hair is caked in dried blood, barely healed bruises are spotted across his pale skin, and fresh blood drips from his arms down the stone floor. The prison garb Dimitri wears is barely even keeping itself together as parts of it appear to have been torn to shreds, pieces hanging over and barely clinging to the main clothing. 

Dimitri blinks and stops looks back to Dedue, the latter realizing he lost his composure.

“Do not worry yourself, I’ll be able to fight.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

The clanging of heavy armor and weapons echo down both ends of the hall, signaling that soldiers from the Kingdom army have been alarmed of their presence.

“One of them went this way!”

Dedue bites his cheek and curses under his breath, he wasn’t careful enough on his way to the dungeons. What makes things worse is that the soldiers are also coming from the way they need to escape, trapping them. Dimitri backs into him, clutching his weapon once the first few soldiers storm in, his arms shaking as he seems to be coming in terms with the fact he’ll have to fight and likely kill his own people, who have gladly served under his family for so many years till now. 

“There he is! It’s that Duscur rat and the traitor!” One of them cried, all rushing in and filling out the hall. 

Dedue braces himself for impact as the first jumble of spears and swords clash against his shield, pushing the force back and makes a swing across at them, slicing through plates of armor and drawing blood. He could hear a few bodies collapsing behind him, knowing Dimitri has already started to make quick work of their now former allies. 

The exchange continued on for a few more minutes but felt as if it lasted ages as more and more soldiers continued to pour in. The pile of bodies kept rising and the once white and blue walls are now painted with blood. When one of the paths cleared they made a run for it until colliding with another squad of enemy soldiers, forced to repeat the cycle again. Midway during the fight, Dimitri collapsed from exhaustion forcing Dedue to take the lead and protect him at any cost. Soon he too started to waver from the injuries he steadily gained, and all that could keep him going was his will to continue fighting back for the sake of the future king, not until he’s sure Dimitri will be able to make it out of this alive. 

Once Dedue finally cuts down the last able-bodied soldier, leaving them some peace until they have to run again. Dedue pulls Dimitri into a side room and shuts the door, taking out another concoction to give to him as he’s kneeling on the ground heaving in and out for air. He refuses and pushes it back to Dedue.

“You… need this more than I do.”

“Please take it, I can still keep going Your Highness.”

“That’s not what I saw. I’m a liability.” Dimitri snaps. “It’s obvious you’re struggling to push forward with me tagging behind.”

“It is not your fault, you were kept here for days. But I cannot continue unless I am sure you can as well.”

Being kept alone in that cell seems to have unfortunately left him to wallow in his own thoughts, Dedue has seen this before. He can only hope that he manages to meet the rest of the Duscur soldiers on the way, though it’s feeling unlikely as most of them are responsible for keeping the Kingdom army at bay. 

The door to the room slams open, and a silhouetted figure standing before them. “Oh my, why isn’t this a curious scene.” 

Before Dedue could turn to see the source of that voice, a blast of magic collided with his body causing him to fall and lose his grasp on his axe. He hears Dimitri’s cry in pain as he collapses face-first to the ground. He blinks a few times to clear his blurred vision, able to make out people in black cloaks picking up Dimitri by the shoulders and feels another strong force pinning him down, his arm being pulled back as he tries to reach out. 

“...Cornelia.” Dimitri growls as the woman herself steps in with another pale one in tow. 

“Quite the spectacle you lot have made.” She muses, trying to avoid stepping on the corpses littered in the hallway as she enters. “You and your dog have always been a painful thorn in my side while here, to finally see you both in your lowest points is quite satisfying.”

Dimitri tries to fight against their grip until a punch slams into his head, causing his body to go limp.

“Your Highness!”

“Ugh, enough Cornelia.” The pale woman speaks up, her is voice soft but gives off a sense of boredom. “Had I not come today we would have lost our prize. The rest back in headquarters would have been  _ very _ disappointed in you.”

Cornelia narrows her eyes. “Of course Lady Bias.”

The Bias woman walks up and circles around Dimitri and stops behind him. She pulls at his hair and a groan escapes from his lips, her face turning into a frown as she looks at the rest of his body. “This is it? The blonde one? Why is he so bruised, surely this isn’t all from the spectacle outside?”

“Oh, because I didn’t get your message until just a day ago.” Cornelia sneers. For a moment, Dedue could have sworn her smile was twitching. “Of course I couldn’t simply heal him, the boy is far too difficult to restrain. Hope you don’t mind how damaged he is.”

Bias hums to herself as she swipes some of Dimitri’s blood from his head on her thumb and sniffs at it, immediately gagging as she holds it away, covering her nose in repulsion. “That is fine, we have the tools needed to handle his type.”

“Get your hands away from him!” Dedue grunts as he lifts his head. With his arms restrained to his back and the bundle of unknown soldiers holding him down, he couldn’t do anything but watch as the woman plays with Dimitri’s hair and moves some of it away from his neck. He appears to be awake but unresponsive, his eyes half-lidded.

“Quiet you dog.” Cornelia snaps. “Maybe I should kill you now—but ah it might be more interesting to see you squirm! What do you think Lady Bias?”

“Do what you wish with the beast.” Bias mutters as she bites her lip to the point where blood drips down to her thumb, mixing it with Dimitri’s. “I want to get this over with and take him away.” She looks to the guards holding Dimitri and signals for them to tighten their grip on him. Bias places her bloodsoaked thumb onto his neck and makes some motions as if she’s drawing something, but Dedue could barely see it from where he was lying. After finishing she stood back and clasps her hands together, whispering a spell to herself.

Candles hanging above them flicker and threaten to go out, prized ornaments and decorations begin to shake from the shelves and walls, either shattering or falling off the edge and breaking upon contact. The only voices that can be heard are Bias’ whispering and soon Dimitri’s as he begins to whine in pain, jerking his head from side to side as he weakly tries to escape. His face contorts as his eyes and teeth clench shut, his whole body starting to tremble.

“Nnghh… wwhat’s… h-happening…” His voice cracks as he manages to get what little words remained in him. 

Strange, dark purple lines travel from his neck to the rest of his body, looking to be nerves webbing across his skin that shone intensely. His breathing grows heavy as he opens his eyes a slight bit, revealing that they started to glow purple as well. He takes one last look at Cornelia who was standing right by him, smiling in glee and taking pleasure in witnessing his suffering. His pitiful whimpers slowly descend into screams of agony as the Bias’ whispers grew faster.

It’s as if the goddess of this land was punishing them. Dedue could not bear to watch any more. He can’t. 

“Stop! STOP! What are you doing to him?!”

He receives no answer as all focus was centered on Dimitri who’s screams could likely be heard throughout the castle. Bias releases her hands from the fold and spreads them across the air in a slow fashion, ceasing her whispers at last. The lines on Dimitri’s body vanish in an instant and his screams stop, ending with his body going lifeless as his head drops down. 

Panic rises in Dedue’s chest as he frantically tries to pull himself out of the hold, looking on to see if Dimitri was still breathing.

“You do not have to worry, he’s not dead.” Cornelia finally answers, laughing into her hand as a disgusting smile spreads across her face. “It was only blood magic, though that’s quite the nasty one you’ve used Lady Bias…”

“Thales’ orders.” Bias replies, wiping away the blood from her lips and thumb with a rag. “Not like I’ll have to worry about making skin contact with this beast again, that’ll be Pittacus’ job. All that’s left is to deliver him to her.”

“No!” Dedue yells out, managing to lift his body up in rebellion despite the men trying to keep him down. “Release him!”

“Hurry on then. I need to get rid of these rats that have infested my castle.” Cornelia pushes aside some of her hair as she readies a spell, aiming it towards Dedue as Bias’ guards ready a warping spell for their escape. 

“Your Highness!”

No answer. Streams of light emerge and envelope Dimitri and in just that moment, he vanishes alongside the rest of their assailants. 

Red. That is all Dedue could see as he broke himself out of the weight of those soldiers keeping him down, flinging one of them towards Cornelia as she releases her spell. She shrieks in surprise upon receiving impact, her spell going off course and hitting the ceiling above, causing several blocks of stone to fall. A piercing hot pain hits Dedue from the side of his hip, a slice at his back. The stones drop and crush a few, some falling between him and Cornelia.

An explosion could be heard, but Dedue couldn’t tell from where while he tries to defend himself from the chaotic barrage of blades coming at him. Screams went off yet the voices are unknown, he couldn’t tell what was going on anymore. 

There was a cry for his name, but by then he was already collapsing from the loss of blood and his injuries. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the cliff hanger, I really am.  
> Fun fact that this chapter was actually supposed to be MUCH longer, to the point where I needed to split in two. That next section is still being edited and expanded upon, but hopefully I can release it soon after New Years. I wish you guys have a great start to 2020!


	4. Whispers of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, happy belated new year!
> 
> I was gonna release these around 2-3 days earlier, but some stuff in life came up as I was in the middle of editing this. But hey, we all have our struggles. This chapter also changed a lot from what it was originally, as I wanted to shift the order of certain events around to be sooner and some to take place later. This way, I won't spend too much time stuck in one plotline and forget the other. Guess this is when POV hopping comes into play. Also apologies if you guys notice me changing the tags often even for the most minor things, I'm too indecisive if I'm picking the right ones or not. You guys let me know if theres a tag that needs to be up there. 
> 
> Lastly, I'm honestly surprised at how much attention this story got. I know I'm not writing a shipping fic (though if you guys wanna ship, I won't stop you, go for it!) so I wasn't expecting much, but for my first fic in this site I'm surprised. Thank you all, it really means a lot to me.

“Are… are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”

Before him stood a young boy with golden blond hair staring down at Dedue, not even showing a hint of pain. The boy had his arms outstretched, protecting him from what could have been a fatal slash to the chest. The soldiers behind the blonde boy panicked, calling him a prince, apologizing profusely, begging for him to leave this place. 

This place that was home to Dedue, yet now is being burnt down into ashes by the very people who tried to cut him down. 

The so-called prince reached his hand out to Dedue. He ignored the pleas of the soldiers to stop moving, saying that he was bleeding too much and needed medical attention. The prince simply waited till his hand was taken, refusing to move no matter what. But that face he wore was not one filled with hope or pride, aspects you would see in a future ruler. 

Those eyes were empty. Tired, weighed down by darkened bags that contrasted his soft features.

But to Dedue, that did not matter. In his darkest hour came a light, one of which shined it’s brightest the moment he took that hand. 

As he was lifted up to his two feet, he suddenly found himself backing away when the soldiers readied their weapons to attack again. The prince stepped in and barked orders for them to back off, grabbing one of their lances and showcased remarkable strength by snapping it in two. With hesitation, they did as commanded and moved aside while keeping their distance, though not wanting to stray far due to the wounds the prince sustained. Once the prince and Dedue received space, the prince turned and looked up to Dedue, his blue eyes now filled with conviction.

“My name… is Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Crown Prince of Faerghus. Will you come with me?”

* * *

Dedue stirs awake, feeling pulsating aches across his body as he tries to move. He lets out a soft groan in pain as he attempts to sit up, unable to recall how he ended up here. It seems he’s lying down… on something cushioned? It’s a bed, right. Wait, why was he on a bed? He remembers being in the castle trying to do something, but what was it?

It’s starting to come back to him: Breaking in, battles within the halls, strange people in black— 

_ His Highness _

Despite his body’s pleas, he sits up quickly and lets out a grunt, the discomfort already settling in on his back while he holds himself up by grabbing at the window sill next to him. Already he knows that he’s in an unfamiliar location. He glances over to his side and is accompanied by a candle sitting on top of the dresser, the only source of light within the room. Seeing as minor flecks of light are passing through the torn curtains, Dedue slides them away and receives the brilliant rays of the sun. Judging by the position, it seems to be past noon. 

Touching at his head he can feel soft cotton wrapped around it. That seems to be present across his whole body actually, confirming it by lifting up his nightshirt to see that he was completely covered in bandages. 

A soft click comes from behind the door. As it opens a young monk enters with a large basket with a blanket covering it, stopping at her tracks when she sees Dedue. 

“Oh my, you’re awake!” She gasps, scurring to his bedside as she lugs around the basket and sets it down next to the dresser. 

Well, this wasn’t what he was expecting. Usually, people seem unnerved whenever they see him. This… is quite the opposite.

“The others will be happy to see that you’re awake, but please lie down.” She urges him, lightly pushing him back down and repositions his pillow into a more comforting placement. “Those wounds you’ve sustained were nerve-wracking, I suggest you continue to rest so your body can heal.” 

Dedue lets out a quiet “thank you” as his voice strains against itself, realizing how dry his mouth and throat seem to be. As if she read his mind, the monk rummages through her basket and pulls out a waterskin, tilting it over his mouth to help him drink it. His throat feels raw as if he hasn’t drank anything in a very long time, the water is very difficult for him to swallow. 

“Make sure to drink it slowly. Don’t force yourself to speak either, just focus on conserving your energy. At most, just nod or shake your head to let me know how you’re feeling, alright?”

He lightly nods at her as he rests his head on the pillow. 

“I’ll be sure to let your friends know that you’re awake, though if you’d like I can stop them from coming in and chatting up a storm with you until you feel better.” She kneels down and pulls out what appears to be a bowl of rice porridge, sliding it over the dresser. “It’s your choice though.”

…

A hard knock hits against the door. Once it opens Collier enters, though unlike his usual armored attire he’s stuck to a simple tunic and trousers, decorated with bright patterns around his collar. Dedue readjusts to a sitting position in his bed, though he made sure to still lean against his pillows for back support, while Collier pulls out a seat for himself. 

It’s been a couple of days since Dedue first woke up, feeling a little more refreshed and able to speak now. He did allow for Collier and the others to see him let them know he was fine the moment he woke up, though he wasn’t able to speak until today. Until then, he was stuck in bed thinking about what happened back in the castle and being filled in on what he missed. To cut things short: Dedue got caught up in the collapse of the ceiling; likely the one caused by Cornelia’s misfire. By the time it happened, Collier and some of his men caught up to where most of the commotion was happening, able to save Dedue in time during the whole ordeal and confusion. 

They managed to flee the capital and head east into Fraldarius territory. A smart choice as tensions are high in the western part of the Kingdom, where most of the battles have been ongoing and have no signs of stopping. The medics of the army weren’t sure if Dedue was even going to survive as they had limited resources to spare until they met back in the new camp that some other members have migrated to. As if granted a wish by their gods, they stumbled upon a cottage owned by an old couple and their niece’s family. 

Expecting to be turned away, they were actually welcomed. Apparently, the grandfather used to travel around many regions outside of Fodlan, and in particular, was very familiar with the people of Duscur. The rest of his family were unsure, but he was able to convince them to allow Collier and a few others to remain here until Dedue recovered. The granddaughter was also a monk, willing to help heal any injuries they gained as well. Dedue made a mental note to make sure to thank them all properly later. Though the biggest news that Collier broke to him caused his heart to drop. 

That whole event happened three moons ago. 

Dedue was out of commission the entire time. Collier and his men were able to retrieve him while unconscious and bleeding out and escape in time before Cornelia had a chance to retaliate as she was caught up in the debris. A whole story was constructed and spread out to the rest of the Kingdom, claiming the attack on the castle was from some rebellious force that has supposedly been annihilated, failing to save Prince Dimitri from his execution. 

“His ‘execution’…” Dedue mutters under his breath. “So that’s the story they are using.”

Collier massages his temple as creases form from his frown. “Yup. Announced shortly after we escaped that hellhole. Complete opposite from yours where they took him away instead.”

It’s difficult to not let his hands shake from the weight of anger draping over him. He was so close, yet right before his very eyes, Dimitri disappeared in the clutches of an enemy he doesn’t even know of. 

“Though seeing as they apparently kidnapped the poor lad instead of murdering him on the spot, leads me to believe they’ve had other plans for him the whole time.” Collier waves his hand nonchalantly as he tries to make sense of this whole situation. “I’d say it’s easy to conclude that this whole execution story is to prevent anyone from trying to find him. Including the fact that there’s apparently no body that’s been shown? Suspicious as all hell.”

Collier stops when he notices Dedue’s hands trembling, raising his eyebrows realizing what he just said. “Oh… I’m sorry. I should have known better—” 

“I failed him again.”

“Wait, Molinaro—”

“I begged of you to not waste your lives, yet here I am responsible for more deaths of our brethren. Resting as a war goes on while His Highness could be out there suffering under the hands of those  _ monsters. _ ” Dedue’s eyes couldn’t reach Colliers, preferring to keep his focus on the window instead. “I don’t know where to start searching for him, he could be anywhere in  Fód lan. Maybe he’s actually…” No, he can’t finish that sentence. By giving in to that thought is admitting it’s a plausibility. 

He hops his legs over the bed and startles Collier, using whatever strength he could muster to stand up. In no time Dedue’s legs wobble and he falls as Collier catches him, steering him back onto the bed.

“Kid! Are you trying to kill yourself?!” Collier berates him. “You heard what that monk told you, rest is your absolute priority!”

“How can I rest knowing what is going on out there? How can you be calm knowing that our mission was a failure?”

Collier roughly pulls at Dedues tunic. “Stop saying it was a failure because you damn well know it wasn’t. Had we not went in there, you wouldn’t have found out they wanted to keep that prince alive. Our brothers helped for a reason, and it’s not to see you grieve over something you had no control over.” He lets go of Dedue and returns to his seat, slouching down as he rests his arms on his knees. “If anything, it was on me for not sending more people over to help you. I overestimated our capabilities again.”

The two remained silent for a while. Not as if they were angry at each other but more so not knowing what to say next. Dedue fiddled with his bandages as a distraction, wondering what he should do next now that their endeavor in rescuing Dimitri had turned for the worst. Why do they want him alive? What was that spell they tormented him with before warping away?

He sighed and reached for a cup of his water, beginning to feel a little tired from that little exercise he did from trying to escape his bed. After taking a few gulps he glances over to Collier, who seemed distracted from his own thoughts as well. 

“My apologies, General.”

Collier looked up bewildered. “Collier is just fine, no need for formalities here.”

“I know what to do now. It’s true, I am acting too rash.”

“Already decided? I must say that was surprisingly quick, but I would be lying if I said I was disappointed.” He adjusts his seating position and leans forward, interested. “So, any plans then?

Dedue nods, clenching his blanket. “I know he is alive out there. But if I am to go in search, I must regain my strength. I’d ask you to support me again in this undertaking, but I’ve kept you long enough already.”

“Psht, I’m only doing this out of my own obligation! If I were a heartless monster I’d have been gone long before you’ve woken up.” He laughed. 

“You are far too generous.”

Raising his hands in the air Collier lets out another hardy laugh. “Consider this as part of the favor, actually no, consider it a brother looking out for someone in need. We all lost someone important, so we all need to work together to pick each other up.”

Dedue cracks a small smile and sighs. “Indeed.” 

He looks out to the window and takes in the sight of the empty fields ahead. It’ll be impossible to take this on himself, and he has an idea of who to contact. 

* * *

“Again.” Pittacus commands, her voice conveying no emotion as she flips to another page. 

Dimitri takes in another heavy breath, feeling the power flowing through his veins as he forces his Crest to activate for the fifth time. He pulls weakly against the chains as the light emerges bit by bit, but before the form could finalize it vanishes. As he was about to let out a curse, he felt that sudden jolt of pain on his neck again. It was only for a moment, but it was just enough to force him to activate it despite his body’s defiance. Once it stopped, he was finally given a chance to rest on the platform despite the constraints. 

Pittacus mutters something to herself as she scribbles something down as always, walking over to check on his condition.

“For shame, I thought you nearly had it this time. You were improving so well too.” She brushes away some of his hair, not minding how much sweat he was soaked in. He winces from her sudden invasion of his space as she passes her fingers underneath his eyes. “You haven’t been sleeping well it seems either, perhaps that is the cause.”

Of course he couldn’t sleep. It’s been several, agonizing weeks of constant experiments. Ever since the first one, the frequency of experiments increased in an attempt to draw out his Crest. He would be taken to that same room as always, laid down on that table so that they could poke and prod at him as he was knocked out by whatever drugs they decided to inject into him. There were a few times where couldn’t help but fight back due to how often the ghosts would intensify their screams for revenge, often ending with him being sedated and dragged away. Sometimes he’d even wake up in the middle of the operation, dazed and unaware of what was going on, feeling his Crest emerge suddenly before falling back to sleep.

They were often accompanied by those nightmares too, revisiting past memories that have long since been buried, some even delving into when he was as young as five years. The way they ended was always the same: A young, 13-year-old version of himself being murdered by Edelgard. He couldn’t make sense of why it kept happening since it even continues to occur when he would sleep in his cell. 

After every operation he would wake up with new stitches on his body, some found across his hands, legs, even his back. Taken back to this same room and forcing him to release the power of his Crest, making minor changes along the way to better make sure he no longer broke his chains or hurt himself in the process. If he failed, they would activate that curse to make up for it. 

And the worst part, it’s actually been working.

His body started to grow accustomed to some of the changes, where the reactions could only be felt as if it was some buzz acting underneath his skin and no longer hurting as much. Dimitri always knew his Crest was always a particular one especially for a minor, as he couldn’t activate it as often as other minor bearers would use their own. At least that’s what he recalled Professor Hanneman stating, it’s just now the prince is starting to grasp on how far they are willing to take this.

A mage walks up to Pittacus with a tray in hand, presenting the contents of bottles and elixirs to her. Her hands dance across some of the mixtures until stopping at a glass one with a hue of deep red similar to blood, taking it and popping off the stopper on it. She brings it to Dimitri and holds his head up as she tilts it towards his lips. 

“Drink it.”

It contained a powerful, pungent odor that made him gag, reminding him of corpses left to rot. But regardless he had no choice but to accept it and drinks the whole thing down, feeling a prick on his arm as he finished the last drop. His strength seeps away as his power weakens; a blanket of warmth covering him as he grows drowsier than before. 

“This one will ensure you get proper sleep, you won’t have to be concerned about anyone waking you up.” She stands and returns the vial back to its tray. “We may need to create some more drastic tests for you to take once Thales returns next moon, this is taking far too long even for my liking.”

“When… can I speak with him?” He sputtered. “He’s been avoiding my… my questions. Especially you.”

“You mean the war? I’ve been far too busy to worry myself over that. I’m more interested in focusing on my tests,” She continues to browse through the rest of the elixirs, taking a quick peek at each one before marking them down. “Right now you are my star, the one subject who interests me the most. I wish to take the utmost care of you as you are the only one to have that Crest, losing it would be a disaster. However, I do wish you were more cooperative.”

Dimitri made no further comments. Too tired to bother saying anything else regarding her plans. It seems he won’t be able to squeeze in another opportunity to practice his magic in secret either. 

With a clink, the chains fall off. At Pittacus’ command, the guards drag Dimitri away and back to his cell, tossing him into the room despite her orders to lay him down carefully. He slammed onto the ground as the door shuts tight, leaving him to crawl back to his bed himself. They were probably still upset over him attacking them during another of his episodes. It’s become too difficult for him to control himself, not when he’s being held hostage by very people who have a part in taking away his loved ones. 

Most of the lights in his room shut off, signaling it was time for bed. 

Dimitri yawned, unable to keep himself awake for any longer. He’ll have to think about this later when he’s hopefully more alert. He lays his head on his pillow, allowing the cool air to serve as his blanket for the night. For once, it feels like he’s at home. 

* * *

“Steady your stance and raise the blade a little higher,” Byleth stated, helping Dimitri adjust the way he’s holding the training sword. 

Dimitri pauses himself for the moment as he glances over to his professor. “R-right, like this?” 

Byleth nods with a smile. “Good, you learn quickly.”

Ah, he remembers this clearly. This was when he was training to take his Lord exam, before the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Well, this is new for one of his dreams. Previous ones always took place before the academy, yet this is a unique case. Actually, this may work in his favor for once. There was something he always wanted to do in these dreams but was too ill-equipped to pull off in his younger forms.

“Is something the matter Dimitri?” Byleth asks with concern. “You seem bothered, everything alright?

Then he has no time to waste then, he needs to take this chance now. “Professor, perhaps we should stop here. I forgot that I promised to help Professor Hanneman with moving some of his materials!” Dimitri hurriedly places the sword on the training rack and makes a run out of the training hall, not even giving the chance for Byleth to say anything else. 

Dimitri jogs down the path and makes it to the dorms, avoiding anyone else that had called out to him. Making it to the second floor, he breaks open the door to Edelgards room, sucking his teeth seeing she wasn’t in there. As for precaution, he went over to his room and rummages in his closet, finding and grabbing a personal silver lance that he stashed away in there. Immediately he leaves and runs back outside.

He skids past the garden knowing Dedue was likely in there, running until he stops at his tracks as he sees a lone figure sitting at the docks. Short golden hair, that familiar warm clothing, it has to be him.

Dimitri looks around seeing no one else is present besides a few knights not paying mind to his presence, making his way to the child who back faces against him. Before Dimitri could say a single word, the child speaks without the need to turn his head to face the older prince. 

“Are you going to kill me too?”

Dimitri gulps down, troubled by the young one’s comment. “No. I need answers to what is going on here. In these dreams that slowly devolve into nightmares.” 

“Put away the weapon, and maybe I will.”

“I brought the weapon because of that woman, you know very well that would be an ill choice.”

The child sighs and turns to Dimitri, ire spread across his face. There is no mistaking it, that is exactly how he looked those years ago. 

“I don’t want to hurt you nor see you get harmed, only an explanation.” It feels somewhat ridiculous asking himself this question but considering the nature of these dreams, he needs a way to make sense of it all. “And why  _ she _ keeps showing herself in them.”

The child stands and stomps down the dock to reach Dimitri, grabbing his hand. “Not here.” He says, pulling Dimitri towards the staircase that led to a restricted area. Once he was sure no one had followed, he turns to the older blond. Taking a deep breath, he speaks. 

“It’s obvious as day, but I’m well, also Dimitri. Technically we are the same person, but think of us being split in two.” The child version takes a small wooden plank and breaks it in half as an example. “I’ve been trying to run from the older El for a while now, she’s like this… disease trying to kill us. I think she’s from those bad people outside who are trying to hurt you. I guess you can say I’m a part of yourself that lives in the mind, while you’re the outside? I’m sorry, it’s difficult to explain.” He sheepishly says. 

Well, that wasn’t what he was expecting. Actually, what could he even expect? Is… is this really happening right now? In his own head? The mere fact that he’s conversing with himself? No, considering how often he’s dealt with these ghosts, this is nothing. Dimitri shakes his head and kneels down to reach the younger Dimitri’s level.

“No, it’s quite alright. I… think I understand where you’re coming from.” Somewhat, it’s already a lot for him to take in at once. It makes some sense that those experiments are interfering with his mind. “But, how are you still fine despite what she…”

The young Dimitri furiously shakes his head. “I’m fine despite all of that! The whole time I’ve been using myself as a distraction, though when you started to show up I thought you were another one of those things the bad guys sent.”

“Wait, a distraction for what, erm, Dimitri? My apologies, calling each other by the same name would be confusing. May I call you Dima for short? Just like—”

“—how Felix used to when we were really young! Great idea!” Dima’s eyes shine. “You’ll help me then?”

“Of course.” Dimitri couldn’t help but smile, he misses that energy he used to have as a child. Seeing that some spark of it was still alive within him is probably the most positive thing he’s ever seen since being kidnapped. The realization finally sets in for him as now he knows what this all means, as if someone kicked him in the gut.

Dima tilts his head in curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

“Now that I am aware that my captors are the ones behind these nightmares, I can’t help but feel ashamed.” His eyes wander to the passing sky, following the clouds that slowly swim past the vast blue. “I’m not aware of what methods they are using, but the fact that they can find a way to manipulate my own mind this easily is… repulsive.”

“Indeed, and you’re only making it easier.”

Dimitri swerves around and pushes Dima behind him, readying his lance as the source of that voice steps into view from the shadows. The curves of his mouth twitch up, the first thing he sees is striking lavender eyes. Her white hair flows in the strong wind, draped in red and adorning her academy uniform.

“Edelgard… So you have finally decided to show yourself!” His voice cracks from excitement, threatening to throw his lance as she walks closer. “What a pleasure to see you here!” 

She pushes back some of her hair as the wind howls, with axe in hand, appearing to be very unimpressed with the sight before her. 

“I can’t say the same for you, Dimitri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri should be glad that there's no weapon triangle in this game, otherwise he'd be pretty screwed right now. 
> 
> Jokes aside I had fun with this one. Normally, I'm not too big on giving characters nicknames if it's not mentioned in canon. But this mini Dimitri needed something, and I know Dima is a popular nickname for our spaghetti prince. It's cute too, so it works. 
> 
> Let me know on how you guys feel about this story so far, if anything confuses you guys or concern you all I'm all ears.


	5. Just a Little Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, sorry about how late this is. I was pretty sick this week. Still recovering but feeling a whole lot better. Apologies for not getting around to responding to some comments from last chapter. 
> 
> Also, WOW at Byleth getting into smash. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for Dimitri, but seeing that he does show up to cheer his professor on (alongside gatekeeper!) is great. Cool that Areadbhar made it in too lol, I did want to use it. Looking forward to trying Byleth out and listening to 3H music in smash. 
> 
> Plus now we know what wave 4 in the DLC is, and this is very interesting. I'm not sure if I will try to have the Abyss connected or mentioned in this fic, as that depends on the content on the side story and if it conflicts with this one. I'll have to play it to find out for myself. Gotta say I do love the new characters designs.

Despite everything around Dimitri being a reconstruction of his own memory, that familiar feeling of being able to hold a weapon and aim it towards the one who he despises the most is real. Those unfulfilled desires returning once more as he already begins to envision the many ways he could kill her.

Bashing her head against the wall? Inflicting multiple stabs into her body until she’s unrecognizable? Or perhaps shredding her apart piece by piece until she is a mangled pile of red? So many options. 

The anticipation is building up so much that he could hardly control himself from moving ahead. Dima is still holding tightly to his cape and keeping himself hidden, reminding Dimitri he can’t be too hasty just yet. 

Edelgard narrows her eyes as she keeps her gaze on Dima. “It seems you’ve found that little, _parasite_ before I could reach it myself. Not quite what I wanted.” 

“It’s her…” Dima swallowed. He ducks behind Dimitri, nearly tearing off the blue cape from its insignia. 

Dimitri lets out a low laugh, nudging Dima to move back as he closes the space between himself and the princess. “How glorious, I finally have a chance to kill you here. You may not be the real Edelgard, but I can savor doing the deed within my own dreams.”

“I ask that you would move aside Dimitri, it’ll make things easier for me and most importantly, you.”

“Oh? Do you really think I’ll let you continue doing as you please? For these past few moons, I’ve been kept prisoner as both my body and mind tormented.” He brandishes his silver lance as his grin spreads from ear to ear. “I finally have a chance to be rid of you.”

She frowns, for once looking straight into his eyes. A strong wind blows past them again, causing her hair and cape to “If you would allow me to explain—”

“Don’t even think I’ll even try to entertain this idea of _you_ of all people making things easier. If anything, you are the parasite here.” 

Dimitri’s words bit down on her like venom. Her eyes widen, a tinge of worry could be caught in her expression. Edelgard prepares herself and readies her stance, her eyes no longer following him but now targetting Dima. “Then I have no time to deal with a narrow-minded fool, especially one who chooses to see only what he wants. I will ask again: Move, Dimitri.”

“So all you wish to do is kill a child in cold blood? Why am I not surprised at how little of the care you have for the innocent?” Dimitri turns to Dima but still keeps his weapon pointed towards Edelgard. “I suggest you make a run for it, she’s aiming to kill you again.”

“W-wait I don’t want to—”

Before Dimitri could hear the rest of that sentence, Edelgard makes the first move and leaps towards Dimitri, unleashing her axe into a downward strike aimed for his head. Anticipating her first attack, Dimitri blocks the axe’s blade in time from reaching the hairs of his head, pushing her far back into a pile of boxes and barrels.

If there’s one benefit to these dreams, it’s the fact he still retains his strength in them. 

“A dirty trick, eh? And I thought I was the impatient one here.” He smiles as he walks to the now destroyed pile of wood, hoping to dig her out of there. As he reaches down to see if he could find her body in the rubble, he is only gifted a sharp kick to the face as a boot shoots out. Dimitri backs off holding his nose in shock, pulling his hand away to be presented with a fountain of blood pouring out of it.

“Dimitri!” He could hear Dima cry out in fear. Why hasn’t that child run away as he asked?

A sudden burst of red light erupts from the pile and Edelgard comes at him swinging at him with her Crest aglow, managing to leave a few shallow cuts across vulnerable areas across his chest and legs. Able to react in time he avoided her making any deep injuries, lunging and piercing the lance into her shoulder. There was no reaction as she still managed to remain calm, grabbing onto the lance with her free hand and pulls it out quickly, throwing him off balance. 

A nimble swing of the axe blows through Dimitri’s shattered defense, making a deep gash at his shoulder. He was able to predict where it was going to strike next, dodging backward as the axe nearly slices at his neck, ultimately twirling his lance to land a cut on one of her legs and quickly disarming her, forcing her to kneel down as he aims the tip of his weapon to her nose. He wipes away some of the blood that had dripped down his face, chuckling as he watches Edelgard desperately use her cape to stop the bleeding on her shoulder.

“Quite the performance you have put up so far. But I’m afraid this as far as you go, Edelgard.” 

Edelgard bites down on her lip, unsheathing something from behind. The small glistening of a blade could be seen.

The dagger.

His eyebrows rose upon recognizing the ceremonial knife, the grip on his weapon tightening. “Haha… are you serious? Another joke, is that what it is?” 

“Only you would continue to be in denial…” She muttered. 

It happened in a flash. She threw the dagger towards him, but Dimitri was able to move aside with only a meager cut on his thigh. At the same time, he jabbed forward only shallowly cutting the side of Edelgards cheek, as she tilted her head to avoid his retaliation. 

At that moment Dimitri thought he would finally have a chance to savor this chance in tormenting her. That is until he heard a chilling scream from behind.

He swiftly turns around to see Dima lying on the ground, clutching his bleeding leg as tears streamed down his face. The dagger was embedded right into his flesh. 

“Aghh… it… it hurts!”

“Dima!”

Suddenly all Dimitri could see was red. Something was thrown over him and is now blocking his vision. He could feel himself being pulled back until he is thrown to the ground, his head making an impact on it causing him to drop his weapon. One of his legs is being picked up now.

“I’m sorry, but you’re leaving me no choice.”

A loud crack could be heard as he feels his leg being twisted, causing him to scream out in pain once he realized what she’s done. He rips off the thing blocking his vision, seeing that it was her cape the whole time. 

“I have no interest in killing you. So—” She smashes her foot into his side causing another loud crack, breaking a few of his ribs. “Stay put. I don’t know what it told you, but be aware that it does not belong here.”

“Why you…!” Dimitri hisses as he clutches his chest, watching as Edelgard takes steps forward to finish the job. 

No. No, not again. He can’t just let this happen like before. It can’t end like this again.

_'You want to kill her, right?'_

_'He’s going to die again because you failed.'_

_'Just like how you let us all perish in the fires that night.'_

He won’t stand for this. He’s had enough. He’s tired of being powerless. 

With a trembling hand, he struggles to take hold of the lance. He pushes himself up despite the broken leg, using the other to make a leap towards her. Before Edelgard could even swing her axe at Dima’s head, Dimitri pushes and pins her down, stabbing her square in the chest. 

“Wha…t…?” She sputtered out blood, shocked at what just occurred. 

Dimitri raises his weapon, smiling as he begins to continuously stab at her again and again. The voices surrounding him were loud. Excitement and cheer were all that he heard until they began to slowly fade away into nothingness. Soon, the only things he could hear were the sounds of his heavy breathing and the sploshing of blood. His movements started to slow as his dulled senses were now replaced with pain across his body, feeling his shoulders being pulled away as he dropped his weapon as his arms started to complain. 

“Dimitri, please stop. It’s over. She’s gone.”

“Over…” Dimitri shudders. The broken ribs are really starting to hurt now. Damn it, does the pain in these dreams have to feel real too? “Why… didn’t you run away as I asked? How is your leg?” He grunted. 

“I…!” Dima started, but his eyes drifted off over to what was once Edelgard. He promptly decided to unclip Dimitri’s cape, dragging it over the ‘corpse’ to cover the whole scene.

“Why did you do that?”

“I… don’t like seeing that. And I didn’t leave because I was worried about you.” Dima sits down, tossing the dagger away. He seems to have pulled it out during the whole stint. “My leg will be fine. As long as I’m not ‘dead’ I heal back quickly.”

Dimitri froze, the reality is now setting in. “I killed her…” He whispered. 

“Yes. You did. Was it… what you expected?” Dima asked

He was a little taken aback by that question, especially one that came from his younger self. “It… it felt good. Yes, as if some weight was lifted off my chest after all these years. She’s not the actual Edelgard but… right now I don’t hear those voices that have been haunting me. Quiet. It feels quiet.” Just minutes ago they were screaming at him, but now? 

Silence. He couldn’t remember the last time they have quieted down this much. 

“That’s great. I guess we don’t have to worry about her for a while either.”

“Wait, worry about her?”

Dima nodded. “Like me, she would eventually return too. But, if we manage to take her down every time, her presence would weaken. Meaning, those bad guys outside won’t be able to control you that easily. Erm… does that make sense?”

Dimitri chuckles and pats the younger prince’s head. “Do not worry, I understand.” There was then a pause and he blinks, feeling as if the world is starting to fall apart around him. 

“Oh, I guess this means you’re waking up now. We’ll have to continue this next dream.” Dima pouts, saddened that their talk has been cut short. 

“A shame. Promise me you’ll stay safe then, alright Dima?”

“I’ll be fine! Also, thank you…!” 

Dimitri couldn’t hear the rest of Dima’s sentence as he felt as if he was drifting away. The last thing he saw was Dima’s big grin as he waved goodbye while everything turns black. 

* * *

Dimitri’s eyes flutter open.

He sits up and stretches, and for once his body actually feels refreshed. Usually, he felt tired even back home or when he was staying at the academy, but now?

It’s quiet. That wasn’t something that happened only in the dream, it’s actually real. There are no shadows peeking in from the corner of his eyes or whispers creeping up from behind. No desperate hands clinging onto him or taunts of his failures. The voices are gone as if they were finally satisfied, despite the fact he only killed a false version of her. 

No headaches either. He feels… free. It’s difficult to believe that they all decided to leave him in peace. The question is, how temporary is this? Surely they would all return, especially after Dima confirming she will return again.

That’s right. He managed to find out what was going on inside his head. Could Dima just be some strange figment of his imagination? Was he really that self-aware of what was going on in his own mind? It’s not out of the realm of possibilities that his captors were trying to forcibly convert Dimitri to their cause, yet something about these dreams and nightmares makes everything feel so real. It’s almost as if he’s been constantly transported to the past, everything he touched and felt was so familiar and painful. 

Images of the aftermath of his battle with Edelgard flashed by, and he decided to push the thought back. It wasn’t real or something worth celebrating, because right now he’s still caged and hidden away from the rest of the world. He can only pray that the rest of his loved ones are safe out there.

A few hours pass after he had his breakfast, and Dimitri is now busying himself with his training again. He’s very pleased with how much he’s improved his Thunder despite the limited practice space, feeling very in tune with the magic inside of him. It’s surprisingly very different compared to calling out his Crest, relying on a separate source of power to draw from. The problem is Thoron, which he cannot just use whimsically in this cell. He’ll have to take some risky shots with it if he were to hatch his escape plan properly. All he needs is some more concrete information about where he is. 

He’s also made sure to keep up with his physical activities. While he has lost some muscle mass, he’s somewhat grown accustomed to having his Crest’s power being active and not. 

A loud banging can be heard from the door, opening to reveal Amelius jumping inside. It seems this moment of peace has been cut short.

“Come on kid, Lady Pitaccus needs you right now.” 

“This soon?” Dimitri asks. 

Amelius crosses his arms. “Come on don’t bother with the questions again. Either you stand up and walk or we drag you out by force like we did last time.”

Knowing how pointless it’ll be if he continues this exchange, Dimitri follows the plague doctor’s orders and follows to the usual room. Pittacus is already there with her nose in her notes and a few of her assistants working on some equipment on the side. Not as many as he usually saw before the operations. As his restraints are pulled away, Dimitri is shoved to the table and sat on it, but not forced to lay down as he was expecting. It seems they’re trusting him enough to not start a scene, especially when two people who could incapacitate him instantly are present in the same room. 

“Take off your shirt,” Pittacus says. 

“Huh?!” Dimitri nearly fell off the table when he heard that. She wants him to _what?_

“If you’re feeling self-conscious there is no need. I’ve already seen how you look like before, what I’m requesting is modest in comparison.” She glances back at up at him, her eyes wide as ever. 

He should have already expected that they’ve invaded his privacy many times while he was asleep, but it still seems like they’re shredding down every barrier he’s put up for himself. Nonetheless, he removes it as asked and tosses it to the other side of the table. Pittacus walks around to take a look at his back placing her hand on it, and the familiar touch of white magic spreads across his spine.

“I’m not particularly proud of the work we did here, a little too messy for my taste.” 

Dimitri tries to ignore her and concentrates on looking down at his feet hanging over the edge. He’s really considering in swinging at her, but with Amelius still watching from the other side of the room he’s not too charmed at the thought of being swarmed again. The healing stops and he notices that she’s starting to pick at a certain scar at his back. 

“Where did you get this?” She asks, sounding somewhat disinterested despite the question. 

“It does not matter to you. Just get on with whatever it is you are doing.”

“You have quite a few burn scars too, perhaps all from Duscur? Perhaps I should remove those for you.” 

Dimitri turns around and grabs her wrist, his eyes coldly glaring towards hers. “Don’t you dare!”

The prickles on his neck start to act up making him regret raising his voice at her. Some of the guards are already preparing their spells and weapons. 

“No, it’s fine,” Pittacus calls out. “He won’t do anything. Right, Dimitri?”

Much to his relief, the curse stops the moment he releases her as his name was being uttered. He admits he’s thankful for her intervention, but there’s now a chill running down his back. Hearing her say his name as if they were friends did not ease him one bit. 

Pittacus wait’s a bit for a response but decides to move on to the rest of his body. Checking his arms, legs, chest, anywhere with blemishes from recent operations. She spends a few minutes focusing on healing some of his older scars, actually managing to remove a few of them much to his surprise. He’s seen talented Faith magic from the likes of Manuela and Mercedes, but never anything so advanced to completely remove scars that are a few years old. Even some of the injuries he received back in Duscur are reacting to her magic, though she seems to stop whenever she noticed him feeling apprehensive about them going away completely.

Seemingly satisfied, Pittacus goes around him again and pushes his head down. Likely checking his neck for any signs or changes to that curse. He wishes he could see what exactly they did to it, but the lack of mirrors has been… inconvenient to say the least. It doesn’t help that his hair is starting to grow out again, and he has no way to trim it down either. 

“Fascinating,” Pittacus whispers, moving away from Dimitri to start jotting down into her notes. He tries to take a peek at what she’s writing but she quickly pulls the papers away from his sight. “You may put your shirt back on now. Go sit in the chair after that.”

He does as asked and sits down, her assistants coming in to help with putting down the clamps that will hold his arms in place. A strange contraption of some sort is rolled into the room with tubes hanging out of some pouch.

“Do not worry, we are only taking some of your blood. No injections today.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any safer.” He grumbles. “I’m surprised you aren’t taking it while I’m asleep.”

“We have before. Though just for today I’m checking on your current condition. You’ll be able to rest for the remainder of the week.”

With the needles inserted into his veins, they begin sucking the blood out of his system. He watches as the first few drops traverse through the tube and into the pouch, it seems he’ll be sitting here for a while. 

“I’m curious about something.” Pittacus is standing before him, appearing to be ready to take down notes again. “What were you thoughts on that medicine I gave you yesterday?”

“What’s this? So I cannot ask questions but you can badger me with them?”

“You’re free to ask me anything actually. But if it concerns the war I have nothing to say like always. Most of my contributions are just supplies.” She bites down on her thumb. “I cannot do much if Thales refuses to tell you anything.” 

“Do you not go outside?” 

“Never.”

That… caught him off guard. Actually, does anyone here even go outside? He’s starting to think these people haven’t left in centuries judging by their complexions. 

“I’ll answer more if you answer mine.” She blurts out. 

Dimitri lets out a snort. Now _that’s_ something that’s caught him off guard. 

Pittacus looks… startled? “I never saw you smile before.”

“Because why would I have a reason to?” He snaps at her, his expression turning back into a scowl. “This whole time I thought you had no emotion, and it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with someone like this.” He looks to the side to avoid facing her. “As for your question, I’m indifferent to it besides the horrid smell.” As he can hear the scratching of her quill against the paper, he thinks about another question bugging his mind. 

“Then was your sleep satisfying?”

“Answer this first. What exactly are you ‘Agarthans’ as you call yourselves?”

Pittacus pauses herself before speaking, likely considering if it’s something she should answer or not. “We have quite a long history, but in short we’ve been here in Fódlan since the beginning. Always a step forward compared to the Nabateans and beasts, and we are very proud of how far we’ve come with our technology. I guess you can say, consider us the true dominant species of this land.”

Dimitri’s now even more confused. Nabateans? Dominant species? All this is doing is making his head spin in circles, there’s too much he doesn’t know yet. He looks to her and sees that she’s waiting patiently. Oh right, her question. 

“The sleep… was fine. Nothing special going on.”

“No dreams?”

His eyes dart away. The way this conversation is going is not what he wanted. “None that I could remember.” 

Pittacus hums in response and jots down into her notes. 

As they finished draining him of the blood that they needed, he was freed and escorted out of the room. While walking, Dimitri noticed there was a familiar clacking sound of heels, turning his head to see she was following closely behind. He thought they were done, why is she coming along?

He was pushed inside his cell, though the door wasn’t closed this time. Pittacus is standing in the way.

“I did promise to answer your questions. Unless you need more time to think we can continue next time.” She surveys the room and her eyes land on his sleeping mat, which was a disorganized mess as he couldn’t be bothered to try and fix it after waking up. “Hmm, the conditions here could be better. That may have contributed to your poor sleep from before.” Pittacus looks over to the guards standing outside. “Perhaps get him a cot? Some sort of bed that would suffice.”

Dimitri couldn’t help but think this was her way of trying to get closer to him. Make him feel comfortable enough around her and be more accepting of his circumstances. He’s the only one left with his Crest, they can’t afford to lose him. But at the same time, she seems willing to speak with him compared to Thales. If he can’t ask about the war, then maybe… 

“Pittacus.” 

“Yes?” 

“You have mentioned Duscur before, meaning you have some semblance on what happened during the Tragedy.” 

She bites down on her thumb again. “I was never there if that’s what you are inferring. I only have secondhand accounts and reports I read. Especially when concerning you.”

“Me…?”

Pittacus nods. “Completely covered in wounds ranging from cuts and burns, and a blow to the head. No one expected the Crown Prince to survive as you were at death’s door. The moment you woke up, you were a blubbering mess that no one could understand. Even moons later in that same year, you were reported to be talking to yourself, crying out at nothing and claiming that the voices were following you everywhere. Supposedly, they stopped at one point. Or did you manage to control them? I wonder.”

Dimitri shook his head in utter shock. “How long have you people been following me?”

“We’ve had people keeping watch on the royal family for years. Keep in mind, we weren’t specifically keeping tabs only on you. It just so happened you became an interest to Solon and Thales while you were at that academy, coincidently being taught by the Fell Star. Now, _he_ was our true objective.” 

“Fell Star… I remember Solon calling my professor by that name. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that one of your own was responsible for killing his father.” 

Dimitri remembers finding his professor cradling Jeralt’s lifeless body in the rain. He and the rest of the Blue Lions were in dismay to what went down when both father and son ran ahead to check what was going on. Professor wouldn’t leave his room for days, even when he needed to eat. The memory is only agitating Dimitri now, even after he and the professor have gotten their revenge. 

“Ah yes, Kronya was the one who was assigned to do it.” Pittacus taps her cheek. A bit of a shame her and eventually Solon’s sacrifice was in vain. Thankfully Thales managed to finish the job.”

 _“Finish the job?"_ Dimitri interrupts. “What are you on about?!”

“Ah, this is something Thales has told us before: The Fell Star is dead. He was foolishly distracted and allowed himself to be an easy target. Blown away by dark magic and fell to his demise as he was tossed off a cliff.” She says nonchalantly. “He’s not much of a concern for us anymore.” 

“No…” Dimitri couldn’t believe what he was listening to. “You’re lying. There’s… there’s no way the professor is dead!” 

Pittacus turns away to leave. “It seems I’ve said too much. I’ll leave you in peace then, at least until you’ve calm yourself.” She steps outside and suddenly stops. “Oh, and I would ask that you do not lie to me concerning your dreams. I know you can still recall them”

As the door closed, he threw himself onto it started banging into the strong steel, the loud clangs of metal filling the room. 

“Answer me Pittacus! Tell me everything!” He screamed, hoping someone would unlock it and let him see her. “Tell me he isn’t dead!”

A charge of electricity sparks in his hands, threatening to explode in an attempt to break the doors mechanism. _No, it’s too soon,_ the thought lands in his mind, finally deciding to release the Thunder spell. He’s not ready to attempt to break out yet, but the urge to do so refuses to simmer down. Gritting his teeth he slams his head against the door, ignoring the pain and the eventual headache that came with it. 

“Why…?”

Leaning his forehead against the cold steel, he allows himself to fall to his knees. His hands trying desperately to hold on to the metal frame. 

“Professor…” he whispers quietly to himself. 

Byleth can’t be gone. That’s a lie. His ghost would have already been haunting Dimitri already. They’re just trying to manipulate him. Make him believe only in their words. It’s just another part of their plan to make him a weapon. 

_'Good, focus on the real goal in hand.'_

Dimitri stops his whimpering, turning around to survey the room until his eyes stop, seeing a shadow emerge before him. 

“Glenn...? Is… is that really you?”

Had Dimitri’s eyes deceived him, he could have easily mistaken the one speaking to him to be Felix. But those striking, icy blue eyes says otherwise. Glenn looked just about the same he did years before, donning the armor he once proudly donned in service of the prince’s guard, the symbol of House Fraldarius etched on his medallion. But just like every other person that haunted him, he appeared as he did in death. His armor melting away, half his face burnt off, his sword arm missing, and he walked with a limp despite it all. 

_'To see you in such a pitiful state is laughable, Your Highness. I thought I was protecting the bold, future King of Faerghus. Not a trembling sack of meat.'_

Dimitri swallowed down the words he was about to say, unable to refute Glenn’s disdain. 

_'Did you really think we would leave you alone for that long? That we would be satisfied with you killing a figment of your own imagination? We want the real Edelgard’s head.'_

“I-I-I’m not—” Dimitri stammered.

 _'What was that? Not wasting time?”_ Glenn sneered as he leaned in close to Dimitri’s face, his eyes wild. _“You’ve just learned you lost another person dear to you. Who’s next? My little brother? My father? Ingrid? Sylvain? The rest of your loved ones?'_

Dimitri frantically shook his head, dragging himself away from Glenn and crawling away to escape the dead man’s gaze. But before he knew it, he finds himself blocked by the feet of several more dead who have just arrived. 

_'How appalling.'_

_'Look at him crawl around like an animal!'_

"P-Please, no… ” He backs himself away, bumping into another shadow. He turns his head to be welcomed by the sight of his parents. 

_'To think I raised this much of a failure of a son.'_

_'How unfortunate. I had high expectations for you, my child.'_

A chorus of taunts and slander erupt around him. They circled around, leaving no room to escape the endless parade of voices that overtook his senses. That moment of quiet he experienced was sorrowfully short-lived, as the dead have only a taste of what has yet to come. No matter how much he covered his ears, Dimitri continued to hear their angry wails and pleas for revenge. 

Because they will never forget. Not until they are satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He really can't get a break. 
> 
> At the rate I'm going with this fic and how often I shove in an extra 1000-2000 words, I might end up going over my original projection of 10 chapters to finish this story. I'm also preplanning another fic that's related to this one, but it's likely that won't come out anytime soon. I'll be putting it under the same series though, so you guys will know when it actually comes up.


	6. Unlikely Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CYL4 has started in feh and I already know who I'm voting for. (Don't worry MRobin, if Dimitri wins this year I'll go back to dumping my votes back to you next year.)
> 
> I'm happy to have finally made it to this chapter, surprisingly I managed to get this one out a little earlier than expected. I thought me being sick the previous week would have delayed it, but nope! 
> 
> Also a random note I've found out. Dimitri tends to speak very straight forward in japanese, but in english they kind of went the other route and have him speak more... princely? Not that it's bad, I actually find this really interesting. Both seem like fitting interpretations of his character, plus Chris Hackney's performance as Dimitri is stellar. Alright, enough gushing. On to the story!

Standing outside the dining hall, Dimitri observes as his professor walks towards the docks with a fishing rod in hand, Flayn closely follows from behind. He can’t hear what she’s saying, likely expressing her excitement for the abundance of catches they’ll likely net. From the other side of the fishing pond, Seteth and Jeralt are conversing amongst themselves and watching as Byleth casts his first line.

“To think so much would change in the span of just a few moons.” Dimitri murmurs to himself, his eyes dazed and unfocused. He rests his arms against the stone balcony, not paying much mind to the tiny footsteps coming from behind. “I don’t want to believe he’s gone. It could just be another lie. But something inside me is telling otherwise.”

“Are you sure this is what you need?” Dima asks. 

“Yes,” Dimitri responds immediately. “I know this is only a memory. I know there are better ways to handle the passing of those who I care for—”

“But you’re afraid of him joining those ghosts as well.”

Dimitri nods halfheartedly. “I just… wish to have some moment of repose before the inevitable. To lament over my regrets for not being there when he needed help the most. Had I not been so focused on killing those enemy soldiers, would things have been different then?” He looks on to the endlessly blue sky, getting lost in the fragmented sea of clouds swimming down to the horizon. 

He misses being outside. It’s not the same trying to replicate it all here. 

“Dima.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for helping me relive these moments. I know it must be difficult trying to keep us cemented here, with how erratic these dreams are.”

Dima blushes as he scratches his head. “Ah… it’s no issue. Plus it’s best that we remain here anyway, in case she returns. I don’t think you’d be able to take her on if you were in a younger form like I am.”

“That begs the question.” Dimitri glances over to his younger friend, who’s peeking his head over the balcony to watch the fishing session. “Why exactly do you take that form?” 

“Oh… um, that’s something you need to ask yourself. I’m not sure either, this happened to be what I looked like the moment you appeared. Strange how I don’t change forms as you did.”

Not a very satisfying answer. Perhaps it was his subconscious desire to return back to those simpler days when he had no worries before the Tragedy of Duscur. Dima being an innocent reflection of who he used to be, threatened to be tainted by an outside force. At least, that’s what Dimitri could infer based on what’s happened so far.

Dimitri goes back to watching his professor, who has quickly amassed a large pile of fish that Flayn is already hurridly trying to dump into the net. Byleth waves over to his father and Seteth. Looks like they’ll be coming up here now to cook the catches they’ve made. 

Dima tugs at Dimitri’s uniform. “Are you feeling better?”

Dimitri sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not sure what to feel right now. All this has done is add more fuel to the fires of revenge. Now that I know that I cannot simply quench their thirst from killing illusions, I need to make haste. I don’t think I’ll have much time until these Agarthans make sure my stay is permanent.” 

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Dima reaches to hugs him in which Dimitri reluctantly accepts. He’s not sure if he deserves this affection, for all he knew he was awaiting another inevitable punishment by the goddess. 

“It seems I must go now.” Dimitri pulls away, feeling guilty upon seeing Dima’s pout. “Now now, don’t make that face.”

“I know…” Dima grumbles. “I know you always have these dreams randomly, but I don’t want you gone for so long.”

Dimitri pats the younger one’s head, flashing a small smile. “I return eventually, just stay safe, alright?”

* * *

More weeks went by as Dimitri waits in his cell, knowing Thales will be coming soon for the usual status reports on the current experiments being done. Ever since Pittacus took his blood and broke the news to him about Byleths passing, the operations have started to slow down. 

While they still administer the same drugs to ensure he doesn’t activate his powers, he’s noticed how much easier it’s become to start summoning his Crest again. It’s as if his body is starting to grow more powerful and overtaking their usual methods in restricting him. Well, besides that bothersome curse. 

He’s not sure how his body has managed to survive the onslaught of torture he’s been wrung through. There were multiple times he thought he was about to die. Even Pittacus seems to dislike using it as much whenever they had those sessions involving force activating his Crest. Dimitri is also starting to despise these random acts of kindness she’s been doing for him. Giving him an actual mattress to sleep on, less crude guards, higher quality food, more bathroom breaks—it’s becoming far too unnerving for his liking. 

All fruitless attempts to make him accept this place. 

Meanwhile, the dead have returned to their usual business of pestering him for his sister’s head. They’re not as loud as when they first returned, but the mocking never ends. He’s thankful that the ghost of his professor hasn’t made an appearance yet, giving him some manner of hope that what Pittacus said was a lie. Something doesn’t seem right though, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Why does it seem as if some of the ghosts have disappeared? 

As if he’s forgotten a few of their faces… 

Out of frustration, he starts picking at his bandages to distract himself from the thought. The blood that soaked through the gauze has already dried. All it’s doing now is irritating his skin. Having had enough of the itching, he rips it all off and discards them onto a pile, deciding the sit himself in the corner to examine the work done to his body. 

_“Can we even call him a prince anymore? Day by day he looks even more like those commoners that bathe in swamps!”_

_“He’s grown accustomed to being a lab rat. How abhorrent.”_

Dimitri grimaces, refusing so much as to see the disappointment spread across their faces. 

With no warning, the cell door opens with Thales stepping inside. Pittacus, Amelius, and one other woman enter as well. There was a slight second where Pittacus eyes the pile of bandages before looking away. 

“Stand, boy.” Thales orders. 

Already that man’s presence is making Dimitri feel heated. Thales doesn’t seem to be very content at the moment either. What could have possibly angered him? 

Bringing himself up to his two feet, Dimitri’s eyes couldn’t help but hover over to the new face that entered. “May I ask who’s this?”

“Excuse me?” The woman tilts her head as she lazily blinks. “I know we’ve known each other for such a short time, but I never knew you things have such a short memory span.”

“Perhaps when you applied the Oneiros Curse.” Pittacus states. “Since the recipient suffers the most backlash, so it’s likely he blocked out that memory from when it happened—” 

“Right right…” The woman waves Pittacus off. “Don’t remind me, he screeched like an animal when I did it. That was aggravating.” She shoots a look back towards Dimitri to catch his attention. “Bias is the name. Don’t forget it you swine.”

Amelius lets out a loud snort, pressing his hands against his mask in a poor attempt to block his laughter.

“And _you._ ” Bias raises her voice as she pushes him, but it seemed like a weak effort as he barely nudged from it. “Aren’t you one of Odesse’s apprentices? Is there any reason why you’re one of Pittacus’ lapdogs now?” 

“My, so forceful Lady Bias!” Amelius giggles. 

Bias looked ready to strangle him until Pittacus hurridly pushes herself between them. “Odesse lent him to me, he’s been a major contributor to my projects, especially this current one. I would request that you would not harm him.”

“Hmph, no surprise you’re defending him and his group.” Bias scoffed, steadily returning back to her softer voice

Thales clears his throat. “Enough with the conversing you three. There are more urgent matters to discuss.” 

“What is it you want with me this time, Thales?” Dimitri questions. He’s beginning to tire with all this bickering amongst these people. They may not be as coordinated as a group as he thought. 

“It’s about your family relic: Areadbhar.” 

“Areadbhar?” Dimitri repeats back, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “What in the goddess’ name do you want to know about it?”

“You see, I thought it would be kind enough for us to return it back to it's future wielder. Especially with the upcoming tests we plan to put you through. However, due to certain… incidents, it seems to have fallen into the hands of another house. One of which the Blaiddyds are known to be very close to. I’m sure you are well aware of the one I’m alluding to.”

Immediately one comes to Dimitri’s mind, causing a knot to tie in his stomach. 

Thales smiles upon witnessing Dimitri’s change in behavior. “I’m sure we could retrieve it with ease and have it safely deposited back into the rightful hands of its owner. Though I can’t say it wouldn’t come without the cost of certain casualties.”

Dimitri clenches his fists. “If you so much as lay a finger on them!” 

A hand reaches Dimitri’s neck and he is raised up to be shoved back against the wall, cutting off his oxygen. He could swear he saw Pittacus flinch the moment his head hit the wall.

Thales’ eyes narrow in disgust. “What did I say about acting out? Despite everything that’s happened, you truly do seem insistent on rebelling against me.” 

Dimitri tries to pry off Thales’ hand, but could already feel the corners of his eyesight darkening. 

“Thales, what exactly are you doing?” Pittacus steps in but then blocked by Thales’ arm. “You’re damaging him. It would be wiser to use the curse or a weaker spell, I have just recently did surgery on him.”

Before he goes unconscious, Dimitri is dropped to the ground. He hunches over coughing violently, his back rising up and down heavily as he tries to fill his lungs back up with air. Suddenly a blow is delivered to his stomach, causing him to hack out some blood. 

“Consider it a punishment that was waiting for him. He may be conditioned to expect the curse, but I know his types require beatings from time to time. Isn’t that correct, my nephew?”

Dimitri hisses at the throbbing pain. His whole body trembles as he could sense Thales shifting his feet, expecting another kick. “Don’t call me that…”

Thales presses his foot down on Dimitri’s back, keeping the prince in place. “How about a deal? You willingly concede and we leave your friends in the outside in unscathed.”

“I’d rather die before giving in to you filthy monsters.” Dimitri grunts. “I have trust in them to not fall by the hands of some measly underlings of yours.”

“Then so be it.” Thales grins as he removes his foot and steps away, signaling for two guards to enter and pick Dimitri up. “He’s all yours.”

Bias lets out a drawn-out sigh as she walks towards Dimitri. “So much trouble making another weapon, especially right now. I swear, it would have been easier to have captured this beast when he was around the same age as the other subjects Solon worked on.” Her face morphs into disgust as she moves away his hair to get a better look at the curse.

“Perhaps,” Pittacus comments as she begins healing Dimitri. “Though we must make due with what we have without him. The progress I’ve made so far wouldn’t have been possible without Solon’s previous findings. Amelius, I need the injection right now.”

“You got it Lady Pittacus!” Amelius pulls out a familiar syringe from his bag and inserts the needle into Dimitri’s neck. He could feel it, they’re putting him to sleep again. 

Bias sucks her teeth as she steps away to wipe her hands on a handkerchief. “It looks fine, I didn’t make any mistakes. He’s just stubborn and is able to resist it; you guys just haven’t taken full advantage of it yet. Damn it all, we haven’t even gotten close to implanting his second Crest either.” 

“Second… Crest?” Dimitri’s voice faltered. He wasn’t sure if he heard that right, his eyes are growing heavy and everything sounds so muddled. “What are you people… talking…”

Deep within his clouded mind, there was a little voice in his head telling him everything will be alright.

_'Just let go.'_

* * *

It’s nearing the end of Horsebow Moon, the brisk chill of the upcoming Faeghus winter whisks past the remaining autumn leaves that have yet to fall. Dedue pulls up his new scarf bracing for the next burst of wind, steering his horse to continue following down the long road. 

It’s unusually calm, one would have believed that there is no war going on. Truly, this place has been blessed to not face those horrors. It just a matter of time until the strife reaches some of these towns. It could be another moon, or favorably a year or two.

Who knows how long this conflict will last. 

From the distance Conand Tower can be seen, marking the border between Fraldarius and Galatea territories. Dedue knows he’s heading the right way. 

He’s been thankful towards Collier for the help in recovering from his grave wounds, it’s a miracle that he’s able to walk despite giving himself a few moons to recover. While the kind family begged for Dedue to stay longer, he had to turn down their request as he could no longer bear to stay idle. He still hasn’t fully recovered either, but is confident enough to be able to handle his own against any bandits that may be lurking in these woods. They’ve been reported to be more active as of recent, taking advantage of most manpower being split off and focused on repelling enemy forces that have entered Faerghus. No ambushes yet. 

Collier also asked if Dedue wished to return back to Duscur territory where most of the survivors still remained. As much as he considered returning to his homeland, he had to decline that as well. Had he been unsure of Dimitri’s fate, this would be a different circumstance. 

Since then, Dedue has split off with his brothers and makes the trek alone on his steed, hoping that he’ll make it to Fraldarius estate in the next few days. It was a struggle to make the horse cooperate with him, but thankfully it all worked out once Dedue got the hang of riding animals again. He’s grateful for not turning down those extra lessons that the Professor offered, despite how much animals fear him. 

So much time has been lost since Cornelia’s coup. She and that Bias woman will pay for what they have done. 

More time passes and a town could be seen up ahead. Hopefully there’s an inn willing to allow him to stay for the night, he’ll spend extra gold if he must. 

The sun is setting as Dedue gets closer, and a loud explosion could be heard behind the walls that border the town. With no hesitation, he picked up the pace and his horse galloped faster, speeding past the gates where no guards were stationed. 

What welcomed him are the screams of several townspeople running away from buildings set ablaze. Fights have already broken out between knights and bandits, some are already lying on the earth bleeding out. So it seems this is where all the bandits have gone. 

Dedue hops off his horse and brandishes his axe. His back still aches a bit, but that won’t stop him from saving some lives. 

He took notice of what appears to be a mother guiding her two children away from the chaos, unware of the bandit lying in wait on top of the roof of the house ready to strike. The bandit makes a dive for the mother but is immediately brought down by Dedue’s strike with the blunt end of his weapon. 

“Hurry and go. Now.” 

The mother nods and mouths a thank you to Dedue, dragging her two children away. Much to his relief, the little ones seem unscathed. He made the right choice in not using the sharp end to avoid potential blood splatter. 

Continuing on he takes out more of the invading bandits. Some that thought they were running off with gold were quickly subdued, preventing any from trying to escape through one of the towns many gateways. He catches one of the larger bandits taking out quite a few knights with a hammer. That one must be the leader. 

With shield in hand, Dedue charges in and attacks the leader, ignoring his backs throbbing pain as he exerts more physical movements. The bandit leader parry’s Dedue’s strike, and retaliates with a giant swing aimed for his skull. Dedue pulls up his shield in the last second, struggling to withstand from the powerful hit as the shield crumbles up. Again his back cries out and gives in, making Dedue fall to one knee as his limits are finally catching up to him, his shield useless and clattering on the ground. Anticipating another strike from the bandit he sloppily brings up his axe to defend himself, bracing for impact. 

A blur zips in and unleashes multiple slices through the bandit leader, catching Dedue by surprise. The apparent swordsman then finally stabs through the leader’s heart, dealing the killing blow. 

“I’m going to be honest, I didn’t expect to meet you this soon.” The swordman says, pulling his blade out the dead man. 

Dedue pulls himself up to come face to face with a familiar ally. The swordsman flicks off some of the blood on his blade and returns it to his scabbard. He carries that same scowl as he always did. 

“A pleasure to see you again, Felix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this seemed like a good point to end the chapter. It's shortest so far but I didn't want to drag it any longer then it should have. The next chapter will follow up with the events in this one, and I'm so glad to have Felix show up at last in this story. His character tag has been haunting me.


	7. Conflicted Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes have started again for me this week, but there's no need to worry as I'll still be pumping out these chapters as planned. Also, I fixed a certain, embarrassing mistake I've been neglecting for a while now for this story. I'm such a dumdum. But hey, I'm thankful for you guys who have stuck around and checked it out regardless. We reached over 1k hits which is astonishing. 
> 
> Also I don't expect all of you to have played smash, but I highly recommend checking out the remixed 3H main theme that came from Byleth's inclusion in the game. It's soooo good.

The bandit attack from that night was quelled quickly after the leaders fall. 

Most of the casualties were of the invaders and much to everyone’s relief, all of the civilians managed to survive. The few soldiers that gave their lives for those people will be honored for their bravery. Had there been no knights stationed in the town, the reality of the situation would be vastly different. 

Had Felix not been there, Dedue wasn’t sure if he would have made it out in one piece. 

The two walked down the trail alongside the many personal soldiers that work under House Fraldarius. It’s been almost a week since the town was saved. They stayed for a couple of days to make sure all of the bandits were captured and left some men behind to help with the recovery effort. Fraldarius territory was no stranger to frequent bandit attacks, though thanks to the war they have been becoming relentless. 

Much to those townspeople’s luck, Felix and his battalion were already stationed there after being tipped off about a potential raid. It was by chance that Dedue also made it there while it happened. Dedue had already sent a letter ahead of time to Rodrigue about his current status and stated he was to arrive soon, he just didn’t expect to cross paths with Felix on the way. 

Maybe it was all intentional. 

“How long are you going to keep your lips tight about what is going on?” Felix hissed to Dedue in a hushed tone, not wanting his men to overhear their conversation.

“When we make it to Lord Rodrigue.” Dedue replied. 

“You told me that two days ago as well. Why wait until you meet the old man?”

Dedue’s eyes dart around to ensure no one was listening in, then whispers back to Felix’s ear. “Because this concerns the status of His Highness. I ask you to keep it to yourself until we make it to the estate, there may be prying ears among us.” He pulls back and faces forward, noting Felix’s stunned expression. 

“Of course it involves him…” Felix grumbles. He picks up the pace and marches ahead of Dedue. 

He’s not surprised Felix reacted that way. But he couldn’t risk saying too much until they were almost to their destination, as he couldn’t help but suspect that there are spies planted in their own forces. If someone like Cornelia managed to serve the family for many years, what’s stopping lower-ranked enemies from blending in?

A couple of hours pass and it was now midday, they have finally made it to Castle Fraldarius. Rodrigue was already waiting near the entrance, looking to be very tired. It seems apparent that he hasn’t slept very well recently.

“Ah, glad to have you back Felix!” Rodrigue exclaims, only receiving a grunt in return as his son heads straight inside. Rodrigue holds up his hand to shake with Dedue’s, a humble smile spread across his face. “Why I’m overjoyed to see you are also well, Dedue.”

“Likewise.” Dedue shakes his hand back, nodding in acknowledgment. 

“You must be exhausted from your journey. Come inside and I’ll have my servants take your things have you settled down. Please, rest for a bit and we’ll have some lunch prepared.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, however there are some pressing concerns we must discuss.”

Rodrigue frowns. “You’re right. This isn’t the time for frivolities. When you are ready, come to my office. I’ll be waiting there.” 

Dedue is lead inside and up the stairs by one of the servants to a guest room. Once the servant was sure Dedue was comfortable they asked what type of tea was his favorite, she ran off as soon as the answer escaped his lips. He removed any equipment and armor pieces he had on, starting to feel a wave of fatigue now that he was wearing normal clothes. The servant then returns, stating that Rodrigue was ready to meet with him now. 

The door to the office opens, and the first thing Dedue sees is Felix leaning against the bookcase with his arms crossed, and staring off into the candlelights sitting on the chandelier above. Felix didn’t seem to have noticed that Dedue showed until he heard the creaking of an armchair being sat on. 

“You better have a good reason for not saying anything about the boar until now.” Felix muttered.

“I’m sure Dedue had a valid reason for keeping quiet about His Highness, Felix.”

Rodrigue enters and locks the door shut, strolling over to his main seat behind his desk. “Apologies for my ragged state, some of the recent conflicts going on in the territory have been hectic. If it weren’t for my brother and Gustave helping out I don’t think I would even be awake right now.” He chuckles. 

“Is this really the time to laugh old man?”

Rodrigue shook his head. “We all need our small moments of levity my son. Do you wish to take a seat? Judging by your appearance you haven’t been sleeping either.”

Felix huffs, admitting defeat to his father and slumps down into the chair next to Dedue’s.

“Pardon, Gustave is here?” Dedue asks. 

“He came to live here after the boar’s supposed execution, Fhirdiad is practically the worst place to be in if you are against Cornelia’s regime,” Felix explains with a hint of venom in his voice. “Running away is always one of his favorite tactics after all.”

As crude as Felix’s comment was, Dedue wanted to agree. He still can’t forgive Gustave for abandoning Dimitri when the prince needed him most. The only parental support Dedue has ever seen was from Rodrigue. 

“Please Felix, not now.” Rodrigue cuts in and looks to Dedue. “Currently Gustave is away on a mission at the moment, he’ll be returning in a few days.”

“I see.”

Rodrigues pushes away some books and papers on his desk and folds his hands together. “First, I’m glad to see you are well Dedue. We had heard the news moons back about a rebel force attacking the capital, when I came there I learned that there were many casualties from the event. I’m happy to see you have made it out alive.”

“Not without several scars it seems.” Felix snickers. “After learning about the various injuries you received I’m surprised I’m not talking to a dead man right now.”

“I wouldn’t have made it without my brothers. The same ones who we stopped from rebelling in Duscur territory last year during our school year.”

“Wait, those guys were the ones who helped you? I thought they hated your guts.”

“They did originally, but if it weren’t for the help of His Highness and our class I wouldn’t be here to tell you what really happened during that day.”

“Please Dedue, tell us everything you know.” Rodrigue pleaded. 

And so Dedue explained everything. From the moment Dimitri was first imprisoned to when he met his fellow people willing to help him on his mission. 

“The truth of the matter is that His Highness’ execution was a false story. He’s not dead, rather a mysterious group kidnapped him the day before his execution was supposed to be held. I unfortunately fell unconscious due to my wounds shortly after that, and only woke up roughly two moons ago.”

Rodrigue slams his fist into his desk, causing the papers to fly off. “...I knew it.”

“I remember, you went to Fhirdiad soon after they announced his death.” Felix says

“Yes. They fed me some, fabricated tale about how I was not allowed to see his body. I refused to believe any of it, and ultimately lost control of myself amongst the chaos that ensued once I unsheathed my sword…” Rodrigue massages his temple. “It just didn’t add up. All of it was a contrived plot to sell to the masses.”

“So wait, why exactly did they take him? Weren’t you with him?” Felix turns to Dedue.

Dedue took a deep breath, gripping his knees. “They overwhelmed and separated us. All I could do was watch as they… they tortured him with some kind of spell. Soon after, they warped away and that was the last I saw of him.”

“Tortured?!” Rodrigue stood up from his desk with his mouth gaping. “He didn’t lose anything did he?”

Pausing himself, Dedue recollected those moments as if they were still fresh in his mind. Unable to do anything and forced to watch Dimitri in agony. Those horrifying screams still clung to his ears. Some nausea is already building up at the pit of his stomach, his words for describing the incident refused to come out. He takes another deep breath and continued. 

“No. It was some sort of blood magic as they called it. I’m far from an expert on the subject, but I wouldn’t put it past it to be aligned with the dark arts. At first I feared His Highness may have died from it, but Cornelia and another woman who went by the name of Bias acknowledged that he was still alive. Stated that he was to be delivered to someone named Pittacus.”

“Bias… Pittacus… unusual names. I’ve never heard such before.” Rodrigue pondered. “We now know Cornelia is friends of the Empire. She quickly ensured to ally Faerghus with them and allowed Imperial troops to cross our borders as they please. Could his kidnappers also be from there?”

“It’s a possibility, however I should note that their uniforms were not of Imperial garb. If anything—” Dedue turns to Felix for confirmation. “They were a group we fought during our year at the academy. Remember the Sealed Forest where we fought Kronya and Solon?”

“You mean that pathetic bunch? How could I forget, they nearly took the professor away from us. Are you saying those are the ones who apparently kidnapped the boar?”

“Yes. They last showed themselves in the Holy Tomb as well. Working alongside Edelgard and Imperial soldiers.”

“Perhaps they are a covert branch of the Empires military.” Rodrigue suggested.

Dedue thought for a moment, but then shook his head. “That’s safe to believe, but part of me is inclined to disagree. Something about them seemed… inhuman. The ways in which they operated could have been independent.”

“And how can you be sure if he is still alive?” Felix questions.

“Felix!” Rodrigue calls out but is interrupted as Felix raises his hand. 

“You’re making big claims here. It’s been over half a year since that coup, what makes you confident that they didn’t just kill him off already. Or is the rabid dog in denial and just planning to send us on a fool’s quest to save his dead master?”

Dedue sits up and keeps his focus on Felix. “If this is about how you view my commitment towards His Highness, I’ve already told you my piece before.”

“Unlike my old man, I actually have issues trusting you. I admit you are formidable out on the battlefield, but knowing to what extent you’d go just to satisfy the needs of the boar makes me sick. For all I know you’re desperate and hallucinated everything you just said.”

“I can assure you what I say are not lies. They wanted him alive. As Lord Rodrigue stated there was no body that was presented, making this far more suspicious than it already is.”

“And why would they want him alive then? For what benefit would they gain for keeping this all a secret?”

“I don’t know—”

Felix raises his hands up. “You don’t know. Spectacular. Then maybe this was all an utter waste of time.” 

“Felix, enough!” Rodrigue berates.

Felix abruptly stands up and makes it for the door. “Not as if the boar was the same as the Dimitri I knew years ago. He’s been long dead.” He unlocks and swings the door open, revealing the same servant who brought Dedue to his room. She’s carrying a tray with an assortment of sweets and teacups. 

“M-M-My apologies!” She stuttered.    
  
Felix didn’t say another word. Refusing to look back he grabbed one of the sweets and pushes past the servant stomping away, leaving Dedue and Rodrigue alone. It became deafeningly silent as Felix’s footsteps turn distant.

Rodrigue cleared his throat and sits back down. “Ah, do not mind him Rebecca. I apologize for my son’s behavior.”

“It’s no issue Lord Rodrigue!” Rebecca squeaks, quickly setting down the tray and passing the tea out. Just as she entered, she excuses herself and leaves the office closing the door behind her. 

“And apologies to you too, Dedue. I’m sure you’re well used to how prickly he can be.”

“No harm was done. Despite how harsh comments like his are, I’ve become jaded towards them.”

Rodrigue sighs, looking over to a large family portrait hanging on the wall behind him. “He truly has become a lot like his brother.”

“Brother?”

“Yes, I realize you may not know much about him. I recalled when Felix and His Highness always clung onto Glenn’s legs when they were only toddlers. They had a tightly knit friend group with Ingrid and Sylvain, arguably an inseparable bunch at the time. Always training, pretending to be knights, telling stories—you would think nothing could easily tear those bonds apart.” 

“Was it the Tragedy of Duscur?” 

Rodrigue nods. “It would be an understatement to say it only affected a few noble families. It changed the overall course of this Kingdom through a single night. Felix in particular suffered from Glenn’s loss the most, and also began to grow distant from His Highness.”

“I only knew of their strained relationship. I never properly got to meet Felix until we started the school year.”

“I would assume this had to do with how he views His Highness. It’s just difficult, to say the least. An event like that will always change any sane man, especially an impressionable child.” Rodrigue presses his hand against his face, eyeing the papers tossed on the floor. “I pray to Seiros that he’s alive as you said. I cannot imagine what those monsters would even kidnap him for.”

Dedue picks up his tea, his reflection in the water staring back. “The whole situation is just strange. I find it difficult to assume he may be dead, otherwise they wouldn’t have taken him away so close to his execution date. The ones behind this are no ordinary group.”

“If so, then there may be something deeper within the shadows of this war. But thanks to you, we may have an inkling of what may truly be going on here.”

“Not only that, I suspect His Highness may have been trying to scavenge some information about them while at the academy, trying to find some truth concerning Duscur. He constantly took trips to the library and studied in the restricted archives late into the night. I fear he may have attracted unwanted attention.”

“Hmm… We’ll have to discuss this even further once Gustave returns. I should also check with Margrave Gautier and Count Galatea, they’ve also been helping with countering Imperial and traitorous attacks.”

“Agreed.” Dedue takes a sip of his tea but is taken aback by the cool temperature. It’s obviously been brewed well, but normally a ginger blend shouldn’t be this cold even after his and Rodrigue’s exchange. 

Rodrigue chuckles. “Let me guess, cold? Rebecca was recently employed, this is not the first time she’s made this mistake. I’ll request they give you a new blend if you’d like.”

“Not necessary, but thank you.” Dedue sets the tea down. For some reason he feels uneasy here, but he can’t put his finger on why.

* * *

Felix sat on the edge of his bedroom window, his eyes lost amongst the thousands of stars twinkling around the crescent moon. A cool touch of wind pressed against his skin, a precursor to an eventual harsh winter that haunts this land. Felix looks back to the sword in his hands—The Sword of Zoltan—focusing on the tiny scratches that began to show. Memories of an old exchange come crashing back to him.

_ I don’t suppose you’d allow me the chance to hold it? _

_ Do you take me for a fool? I’m not letting a brute like you swing it around. _ __  
_  
_ __ As though I would be careless with something so valuable.

“Hmph.” He brushes it away. No point wading around these thoughts. It’s all pointless fluff clouding his mind on what he really should be focusing on. 

Felix stands and heads over to his nightstand to look for his polishing materials, interrupted by a loud growl coming from his stomach. Of course, he neglected to eat anything else besides that cake from several hours ago. Curse Lysithea for making him warm up to sweets, it’s starting to become an incurable addiction for him. Giving in to his hunger, he decides to put away the sword and head down to the kitchen. Surely there are still some leftovers he can find, maybe one of the cooks are still there and can whip up something quick for him. Anything to sate this hunger. 

As he heads down the stairs and pushes past the dining room doors, he could hear the sounds of a knife cutting against the chopping board. A faint light is glowing underneath the door leading to the kitchen, it seems he’s not as late as he thought.

Pushing the doors open, Felix would have expected to see one of the usual cooks to still be here. But no, it’s the person he wanted to encounter the least. 

Dedue.

“Oh for the love of…”

“Felix.” Dedue acknowledges, not looking up from his cutting board. He continues to chop vegetables at a rapid pace, sliding them into a bowl and setting it aside to start cutting some fish.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now?”

“I haven’t eaten yet. I also didn’t want to disturb any of the servants and requested from your father to allow me to prepare my own dinner here.” Dedue turns around and starts setting up the frying pan. “I also told him that I will prepare a share for you since he mentioned you not coming down to eat.”

“I didn’t ask for you to do that for me.”

“It’s no issue. I think His Highness would have been grateful that I helped you in any way possible.”

“Pfft, there you go again about the boar. You are obsessed with what he thinks, ever thought of living for yourself?” 

Dedue discards of the inedible parts of the fish and sets the pan. “This is what I chose to do. Whether you believe that what I’m doing is right is of no concern to me.”

“Heh, to the boar I bet it is.” Felix walks up to the counter and picks up one of the unused knives to inspect it, flipping it around by the handle. “I’m sure you’re well aware of how much he wishes to be treated as an equal. He always despised the utter worship he received from others, especially by his own friends. There came a point where he gave up on telling Sylvain and Ingrid to stop using honorifics as our parents hammered down on us to respect his status. While I continued calling him by his name as I pleased, much to my brother’s chagrin. Yet it all changed three years ago.”

Dedue remained silent, the only sound that could be heard was the sizzling of fish on the pan. Felix wasn’t sure if the vassal was listening, but kept going with the story regardless. 

“As you know I didn’t visit often after Duscur, so imagine how ecstatic I was to finally take part in the western rebellion with him. I was only but a squire at the time. Being able to fight side by side with a longtime friend such as him was a dream I always had as a child… that is until the actual fighting began.”

Smells of spices waft through the air. The sizzling on the pan stops and Dedue begins to plate the food—a portion for each of them.

“I couldn’t recognize him.” Felix pauses himself as he flips the knife to the side, a fainted reflection of his own eyes appears. “He took joy in watching his enemies squirm in their own blood and sadistically toyed with them before the eventual kill. Never would I have thought to see his brutal strength used in such a way.”

Flipping the knife over one more time, Felix takes it by the handle and stabs it down into the cutting board, embedding it in place. “I was afraid of him.”

“Hmm.” Dedue slides a plate towards Felix, passing down the utensils. 

“Did you even listen to what I said?”

Cutting into his dinner, Dedue takes a small bite of his food. “I did.”

“The point is I knew the man he was before that monster took his place. Even if he were still alive, in the end it wouldn’t be the same he used to be. You are a dog that willingly serves him despite only knowing his true tendencies.” 

Dedue puts down his fork and knife, taking a nearby cloth to wipe his mouth. “You are correct in that I only knew him for what he was after the Tragedy of Duscur. It’s also true that he’s often reprimanded me for never calling him by his name, that I never allowed our friendship to grow past formalities. However, I must disagree with your views on him being dead.” 

This is starting to get annoying. Just like it is with many other people, it feels as though Felix is talking to a literal wall. He’s almost considering walking out of here and starving himself for the night. “And why is that?”

“His Highness—the Dimitri you know—is still alive. Both physically and figuratively. The monster in which you describe him as is the same as the old friend you know well and cared for.” Dedue pauses himself and pushes Felix’s plate a little closer. “Also, be sure to hurry and eat. Your food will get cold.” 

Felix slams his hand against the counter causing the plates to jump and looks Dedue in the eye. “You don’t know that. All you saw was him being taken away.”

“Question.”

“Huh?”

“Do you truly believe His Highness to be dead? Despite all of this animosity you have, it’s become quite obvious you care a great deal for his fate. You are afraid, but not only because of how violent he’s become. You are afraid of him never recovering.”

Stunned, Felix had no immediate response to Dedue’s accusation.

“After these few years, I’ve grown to understand what kind of person he is. A man constantly tormented by his own demons and regret, but still filled to the brim with compassion. He’s always felt the pressure of eventually needing to run the entire Kingdom after the late King’s murder.” 

Maybe it was Felix’s eyes playing tricks on him, but he thought he saw a small hint of a smile in Dedue’s face.

“Admittingly, I do wish to become friends with him. It’s something he’s always wished as well. But my own need to repay the debt of him saving my life comes first. I guess to you it’s ironic that I, an outsider, have values that are very close to Faerghus’ own.”

Felix looks down, blowing air out of his nose as he pulls out a seat and slumps down. “...Hmph. I suppose there is some semblance of humanity and self-awareness in you. Not to say I’m pleased with you assuming how I feel about the boar.”

“It’s merely an observation.”

“One that hits a little too close to home.” Felix picks up his fork and starts to pick at his fish, leaning his head against his hand. “You’re right. I don’t want the boar to be dead, but there is already a part of me that believes the Dimitri I knew has been gone for years. That’s not something that can just change for me overnight.”

“Change is never easy. I can say I know that all too well.” Dedue sighs. 

Felix shakes his head as he lets out a soft laugh. “Then I guess we’re both miserable excuses for human beings.” Taking a bite of his food, he’s surprised that it’s still somewhat warm. He couldn’t resist the urge to let out a delightful hum. It’s delicious. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s quite a favorite among most of our class.”

Felix gulps the food down. “What, do you keep track of what everyone liked?”

“More or less. Though I did notice you take that cake earlier. I thought you weren’t particular towards sweets.”

“...It’s a recent thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man the more I write, the more I end up expanding this whole plot! I've been going back and reviewing some text or plot details I may have forgotten or missed since it's been a while since I last played BL route compared to the others, as it was my first one. 3H has so much lore and text to keep track of. 
> 
> Things may end up speeding up/getting a little more hectic in future chapters, as this whole story is practically the beginning of a larger one that'll come in the future.


	8. Surprise Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are doing well!
> 
> I'm still early in my semester and not much is going on in terms of school work, so I'll be able to keep up with these updates thankfully.

“Mother, please, not now.”

“Aww come on Felix, at least let me see if your hair needs a trim.” 

He doesn’t see it, but he already knows his cheeks are flushed. “My hair is fine, I’ll just tie it into a bun like always. I don’t have time to prance around and play hairdresser.”

His mother gives him a smug look and turns around. “Alright, alright. I just don’t want to see my little boy get his hair caught up in battle. What about you lad? Your hair looks pretty long too.” She glances over to Dedue who’s tending to his horse. The horse lets out a sudden sneeze as Dedue brushed it, making him drop the comb. They are currently in the stables, passing some time until Gustave returns today. 

Dedue leans down to pick up the comb, wincing a little as he stands right back up due to his back pain and resumes grooming it. “I appreciate the offer Lady Vivian, but there’s no need.”

Vivian pouts. “Hmph, you boys are no fun.”

“Because there are more serious issues going on besides our hair.” Felix drags his hand across his face and then pulls on his mother’s hand. “Come on, you should go back to bed now.”

“Ah! No way! I rarely get a chance to go outside these days.” She swats away at Felix and walks on over to Dedue’s horse, picking up a different comb to start brushing the horse herself. “Here, let me help with that. I grew up doing a lot horseback riding back in my day, so I know my way around these animals.”

All Felix could do was groan. 

His mother has been sick for the past moon. Today was the first time she was able to go out and take a walk on her own, yet that only makes Felix feel anxious about her condition. She came down with a random fever one day and was forced to stay in bed until signs of recovery showed. Leaving him and his father not only concerned about the war but also stressed about her condition. Felix wasn’t fond of going on that side mission to stop bandits in a random town, knowing that a potential invading force from Fhirdiad could come at any time. But he also knows that they had no choice as their resources are spread thin with most of the western territories swearing fealty or being overrun by the Empire. 

Not only that, but his father looks terrible. The stress over mother’s illness and being one of the leading charges against the war is taking a toll on him. It’s been days since Felix returned back home and still his father never gotten a wink of proper sleep. 

“—and be sure to approach them gently. This one has grown used to you, but any other may get easily intimidated if you’re not careful.” 

“I appreciate the lesson.” Dedue nods. 

Well, at least those two are doing fine.

A warm smile embraces Vivian’s face. “It’s no problem. I’m happy to help out anyone in need.” She then shudders as a cool breeze slips by, pulling in her shawl to keep herself warm. “Oh my, I guess the cold still has me by the neck.”

“That’s why I said to come back inside,” Felix calls out. “Father is going to panic when he realizes you’re out here.”

“Fine, fine!” Vivian grumbles. “But I’m not going back to bed.”

“Would you like if I brew tea for you, Lady Vivian?”

“Heavens no, Dedue. You’re a guest, don’t put yourself through any menial work here.”

That talk they had the other night… Felix couldn’t believe he went spilling his whole story concerning that boar. For some reason, it felt like something he needed to get off his chest. But towards the boar’s lapdog? Never would he had imagined it going that way. Nevertheless, it is somewhat reassuring he’s not working with a mindless beast. He can only hope they find some leads on where to start searching, assuming the boar is alive of course. If that mysterious group is keeping him somewhere far off like the Empire, then the job will be several times more tedious than they would hope. 

All of a sudden the hairs behind Felix’s neck rise, a chilly unease creeping into his skin. This isn’t the normal cold, rather it feels malevolent. He pulls on the handle of his sword, making a quick turn to face this unknown presence. 

It was just Rebecca.

“O-oh I’m sorry!” She yelps out. “I didn’t mean to—!”

“Enough. I told you to not sneak behind others like that, you’ll get yourself killed.” He snaps at her. 

“Felix, please give her a break. She didn’t mean to scare you.” Vivian walks up to stand by her son’s side. “What’s wrong Rebecca?”

“L-Lord Rodrigue says to come to the front gates. And that you return back to your chambers, L-Lady Vivian.” She stutters. Her eyes are racing back and forth between the three of them. 

Vivian shakes her head in defeat, her amused smile still present. “Guess I have to cut the fun short. Alright kids, I’ll see you two later. Tell Gu—Gilbert I said hi.” With that, Vivian leaves along with Rebecca heading back inside. Felix watches as the two are far enough from earshot as Dedue walks up from behind.

Felix bites his lip, sheathing his sword back in. “I wasn’t sure at first, but seeing as you noticed too makes me feel a little less crazy. She made her killing intent pretty obvious this time.”

“I didn’t want to alarm anyone since it could very well be paranoia on my part.”

“No, you’re on to something. Shortly after she was hired my mother fell ill, but none of the nurses could find out what was wrong. Yet, something about the way that Rebecca woman carries herself feels so forced.”

“Did Lord Rodrigue suspect anything?”

“At first, but no one found anything on her after investigating. She’s a clumsy maid who got hired out of a recommendation from one of the older workers; she supposedly came from a poor village south of here. The old man is stressed out as is, he has no time to worry about the quality of our servants.” 

“Then perhaps we need to look into this ourselves.”

“Right. Now let’s get going, they’re still waiting for us at the front.”

As they came around to the front entrance where a large group of knights are already gathered up near the gates. Rodrigue is greeting Gustave—or at least—they need to start referring to him as Gilbert now that they’re in public. But what catches their eye is someone who they least expected to ever show up here, standing right behind Gustave. 

There’s no mistaking that shade of red hair and evasive smile.

“Sylvain?!”

“Hey guys!” Sylvain pipes up and waves at them with his grin widening. “Long time no see!”

* * *

Apparently, Gustave’s mission involved him heading up to Gautier territory and assisting with conflicts going on up north. Recently they had been dealing with most of the heavier attacks from the traitorous forces of the capital, so he brought in extra troops to better their chances in their defensive battle. Not only that, but the Srengnese have been taking advantage of the ongoing war to attempt a surprise invasion. 

They failed spectacularly. 

Now they have word that an incoming army will be charging towards Fraldarius and potentially south to Galatea. Sylvain seemed eager to jump at the opportunity to come along and help out with the whole situation. The extra help is useful since they’ve been spread thin when it came to their current forces dealing with the chaotic bandit attacks. Felix does admit, he’s glad to see one of his closest friends still doing well. 

Rodrigue decided to have a private meeting with Gustave to fill him in on what is currently going on. Likely telling everything Dedue mentioned concerning Dimitri and searching for his whereabouts. The other three opted to go to the kitchen to eat, especially since Sylvain whined over barely having enough food during his trip to here. Since it’s daytime, there’s still quite a lot of chefs and servants running around due to the large influx of visitors. 

“Oh man, did I really miss your cooking Dedue.” Sylvain wipes away the crumbs on his face and takes another swig of his drink, taking some big gulps before taking another bite of his meal. “I mean, I learned a lot from your pointers back in the academy. But nothing can match the original!”

“Careful to not eat too quickly.”

“Haha, sorry. The journey to here took a little out of me, was starving the whole way.”

“You sure your father will be fine without you and your relic being there?” Felix questions. 

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine. We practically decimated the Sreng forces, those guys really thought they had the upper hand this time. But alas, getting cocky has always led to their downfall. I thought it would be a fantastic opportunity to check up on whats going on here and—” Sylvain leans over to cross his arm over Dedue’s shoulder. “What do you know! Dedue is here too! Buddy, was I worried about you after…” His voice drifts off and his eyes turn downcast. “After, you know…”

Dedue looks on to Felix, separating himself from Sylvain’s hug. “There’s something you need to know, though preferably we need to discuss it in a more private space.”

“Something I need to know?” Sylvain repeats back, befuddled. 

Felix looks around and does a headcount of how many chefs are currently working in here as they talk. A few too many. “My room is probably the best option. I’m sure my father is already filling everything in with Gilbert, but I guess it’s our job to tell you. You can bring your food, just don’t let it near any of my weapons.”

As the three pick up their things and head up for the stairs, much to Felix’s displeasure Rebecca was also up there cleaning the hallway. Why of all times is it now that she’s up here? And already he knows what’s about to come next. 

Sylvain elegantly passes his plate of half-eaten food into Dedue’s hands, making a mad dash towards Rebecca and stopping short of bumping into her. He leans against the wall and brushes his fingers through his hair. “Why hello, I don’t believe I’ve seen a beautiful maiden like you here before. The names Sylvain Jose Gautier.”

“O-oh… um…hello…?” She starts to back away but trips on the bucket of water behind her. As she falls, Sylvian catches her by the arm and helps her right back up. Rebecca looks on to him with starry eyes and clasps his hands, a rare smile appearing. “Th-thank you.”

“Careful. We don’t want a beautiful face such as your’s gettinaUUH—” 

Felix grabs his excited friend by the collar and pulls him back, dragging him across the carpet towards his bedroom door.

“No.”

“Aww come on Felix!” Sylvain looks back at Rebecca and cups his hands together around his mouth. “Let’s chat later!”

Rebecca gives a half-hearted wave, turning back to focus on her work.

“It would be best to listen to him,” Dedue suggests in a low whisper as Sylvain slumped on the floor. “I would also recommend not interacting with her either.”

Sylvain shot open. His eyes dart back and forth between his friends until he looks on over to Rebecca, who doesn’t seem to be paying much mind to them since she’s focused on cleaning up the mess of water spilled all over when the bucket fell. She seems to be muttering something to herself. 

“Alright, now I know something is up if it’s _Dedue_ of all people telling me to not interact with a girl.”

…

“Hold on, hold on. Let me get this straight, you’re telling me there’s some secret cult that took His Highness, and it’s the same group that kept messing with us last year? Not only that, but you’re suspicious that one of the servants is a potential spy?” Sylvain brushes his hair back and whistles. “Well, I sure seemed to have missed out on a lot.”

Felix can’t blame Sylvain for being overwhelmed with all this information. For most of this year they didn’t know what to believe in as there was a lack of a body, but also no signs of Dimitri being alive either. Unless there were reports of a beast prince running amok in the barren forests of Faerghus, any speculation may as well fall to deaf ears. He’s still unsure if it means that the chances of the boar being alive is high, but they might as well have a lead on who those people are and what they are planning. 

“You seem to have had it pretty rough Dedue. To be honest, I was wondering about what happened to you after the execution. Again, glad to see you’re here with us buddy.” 

“Likewise.” Dedue acknowledges. “You seem to be taking this fairly well.”

“What can I say? I know how to adapt to the situation.” Flashing a grin Sylvain shrugs his shoulders, but soon it turns into a frown. “No, but seriously, that is some intense stuff to learn about. And if what you’re saying about that Rebecca chick is true, I wouldn’t put it past it that she’s like Monica. A poor, cute girl replaced by some sick freak. I mean I guess Kronya was kind of hot, though wasn’t a huge fan of her trying to gut our insides.”

“For once I would wish that you’d keep ogling over girls to a minimum. Especially towards potential enemies.” Felix hisses at him. 

“Alright, sorry, wrong time I know. But listen, this is probably why it’s great I came here. You saw how she looked at me, if I put up my charms with her—”

“You’re not being serious.”

“Oh I am.”

Dedue ponders for a bit. “Hm. Sylvain may be right. He could help with finding out if she truly is working with that group.”

“Yes!” “What?!” Both of them whipped around looking up at Dedue.

“If we can corner her and catch her in a suspicious act, we can interrogate her for information. Whether or not she is part of that shadow group or the Empire, she may be a key to vital information we are in desperate need of. Sylvain’s talents may serve us well here.”

Felix stews on that thought, eventually giving in to the idea. “Fine. We just need to hope we have some time then before that invading army comes. How many weeks did you say it’ll be?”

Counting down on his fingers, Sylvain holds them up. “According to sources, roughly two. Three tops. I bet they’re still reeling over some of the losses they got from the fight my family put up the last battle. They seem eager to take down the eastern lords, probably because we’re blocking off their access to the northern Alliance territories. You guys heard about that civil war going on over there right?”

“It doesn’t concern us. What matters more is that we deal with the problems going on here.” Felix leans against the glass of his bedroom window, feeling the faint warmth of the sun on his back. “I need to get some training done in the meantime. If you two wish to come along, you’re free to do so.”

“I’ll join you.”

“Eh, I’ll pass. Too tired.” Sylvain yawns. “Actually, I have one more question. I suppose you guys don’t know what happened to the professor then, right?”

Felix exchanges a look with Dedue, the latter shaking in response to Sylvain’s question. “Your guess is as good as ours. Haven’t seen him since the battle of Garreg Mach, even the boar didn’t know where he went.”

“Bummer. I can’t help but be worried about the rest of our class too. We know Ingrid is helping her father, but the others are deep in the western region. I wonder if there’s a way we could contact them.” 

Dedue sighs. “Ashe, Mercedes…”

“Annette…” Felix mutters. 

* * *

The light of his Crest fades away as he gasps for air with one knee is planted on the ground, stubbornly gripping his lance that’ll likely break if he attacks with it again. Dimitri reaches and clutches his grazed shoulder as blood trickles down his weapon arm. The white of his shirt now smeared in red.

“Damn… damn it.” 

A loud growl erupts from the demonic beast that stands before him. Its defenses were whittled down bit by bit from his strikes, making it easier to deal critical hits on its weak points. Though while the monster has slowed down considerably, so did Dimitri. He’s not sure how much longer he could take fighting this thing, he’s severely underequipped and low on stamina. Out of all of the things he’d find himself waking up to, being trapped in the same chamber as a demonic beast again is one of the worst.

The demonic beast lets out a roar as it charges towards him. Dimitri leaps away in the nick of time to avoid getting crushed between the monster and the wall it crashes into. He winces as he moves his shoulder, slowly feeling the rise of a fever hit him. Was he poisoned when it clawed at him earlier?

It makes another jump at Dimitri trying to grab him but misses again as he slides underneath its attack and pierces its throat. Dimitri twists the lance around inside the beast, causing it to screech in pain as the weapon is pushed further into it’s exposed flesh. Gathering up all of his strength and power, he uses his Crest once more and silences it. The pole shatters as the beast falls down with a heavy thud. The tough skin disintegrates until nothing is left but a poor man lying lifeless on the floor.

Dimitri collapses as the effects of the poison become stronger and his fatigue catches up to him. He could hear the little whispers of the ghosts saying he might die. At this point, the option of dying here actually sounds appealing. Just so he can get away from these torturous tests and experiments. 

Sadly, this is never the case. 

Someone picks him up and tilts his head to forcibly make him drink something. Needles poke at his skin which he has long grown numb to. A flush of white magic bathes his bleeding wounds. No matter how many times he may fall, they’ll find a way to make him recover as if nothing happened. 

“Wow! You’re really pushing him to his limits!” Amelius laughs. “I think this time it finally worked.”

“I’m not particularly proud of this method, but we’ve got no choice as we were running behind schedule.” Pittacus flips through her pages, checking off as she goes. “While we have gone over our estimated timeframe, I can ensure we will finish this project soon. Hopefully the relic is retrieved before then.”

Amelius huffs and shakes his head at her. “You worry too much about the princeling. You’re still acting as if he may be disposed of in any minute.” 

She doesn’t respond back to Amelius’ comment, only keeping her eyes trained on Dimitri as her assistants heal him. He won’t be moving anyways, he’s far too drained to even bother standing up. 

It’s been becoming more difficult for Dimitri to keep track of his time here. They began to put him to sleep more often without warning, even if it was in the middle of the day. Sometimes he’ll wake up in the operation room, other times he’ll find himself in one of their testing chambers waking up to a monster trying to kill him. Always he is pitted against the smaller demonic beasts they have at ready all for the purpose of fully expanding his power. The more he became adapted to his Crest, the stronger the next beast became. There’s no mistaking it now as he can feel it in his veins—the power of a Major Crest is flowing in his blood. 

During one of his bouts in which he was awake, he managed to question Pittacus over Bias’ claims of implanting a second Crest, confused if it was a throwaway line of hers.

_Yes, we are planning to implant one into you, it’s been a part of the project since the beginning. It’s been done successfully before, and even now we are more confident in ensuring it all goes through as planned._

_It may cause some… particular effects on your body. But by the end, you will not worry about such things. We are still trying to find a Crest that’s compatible with you through the blood samples we’ve taken, so you have no need to fret over it now._

The idea of someone being able to bear two Crests sounds ludicrous. Never has he heard or witnessed anyone bear two at once, even when it comes in regards to families with mixed Crest heritages. He wants to believe that it was all a senseless joke, but after everything he’s been through so far… he highly doubts it. Especially if it’s coming from Pittacus of all people. 

He’s always cursed his inability to control his own Crest. It’s unpredictable, it felt like something inhuman when compared to even another Crest bearer. But he always tried to make do with this power disguised as a blessing as it was always a part of who he is. Now he’s constantly being prodded for his blood and slowly being morphed into a weapon for these twisted plans and disregarding him as a human being. He was far from the first to go through this as well. How many other tortured souls have suffered? How many even survived?

_'How foolish.'_

Who’s… who’s voice was that? He’s heard it before, it sounds familiar. 

“Is something the matter, Dimitri?”

He turns his head over to see Pittacus still staring intently at him. She kneels down and presses her hand against his forehead, blinking before pulling it back. His hair falls to the side, having become more unkempt and overgrown. Pittacus seems so positive in her voice despite her deadpan expression. When compared to the professor who struggled to show his emotions, Dimitri can tell she’s holding them back on purpose. For what reason he’s not sure. 

_'Leave it all behind.'_

Hearing an aimless voice with no face attached to it is making his heart race. It’s definitely not one of the ghosts that disappeared from the shadows, it sounds so distorted from the rest. It doesn’t help that he’s already struggling enough trying to piece together how they looked like before. He can’t understand why they have been becoming quieter either. Not even his parents speak as much as they would normally. 

“I see, you must be reacting to Oneiros again.” She caresses his cheek making him grunt in disgust, not minding his weak attempt to move away from her.

“Don’t touch me you wench…” His voice rasps. The action of talking itself is draining him.

“Oh no, should we put him down again? He’s getting angryyyy.” Amelius reaches for his supplies though is stopped by Pittacus.

“There is no need, it’s become clear that the curse is taking control at last. Forcing him to succumb to the drugs will only make him behave irrationally.” Her hands pass behind Dimitri’s hair and reaches for the back of his head, turning him slightly to get a view of his neck. “Such a powerful spell, yet you managed to resist it for so long. I’d say you’ve been one of the more interesting subjects I’ve had the pleasure of working on in years.” 

That curse…

At first, Dimitri thought it was simply a dark spell meant to restrain him in case his strength returned randomly, but now he knows it’s something even more dangerous. It’s messing with his mind. It’s likely to be the cause of the ghosts acting strangely. And even though he managed to take out the Edelgard that haunted his dreams, these changes are becoming more and more noticeable regardless. 

Dima mentioned she would return but it’s been so long since their last encounter with her. Not only that, but he’s starting to fear that something is off about Dima as well. Was Dimitri too quick to assume things were as black and white as they seemed? Or is the curse making him second guess himself? Can he even trust himself?

He can’t tell. Every day that passes becomes blended together, as he’s unable to recall most of the days he’s stayed here. 

And the longer he stays here, the more impossible the idea of escape is becoming. He’s managed to keep a rough mental note of the hallways and doors that he has walked through or been carried around in. There are no windows. No obvious exits. And no hints on where in Fódlan he could be kept in. Adrestia is his best guess due to the close nature these people have with that woman, but with no idea on whats going on outside he could very well be stranded in enemy territory with no means of escape at all. 

His only hope is to get the drop on them when they least expect it. He has a decent plan in mind, but its only one shot. Any missteps and it’s all over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, Sylvains here too. I'll put him in the tags eventually, but I wanted it to be a little surprise. I thought it would be nice to have some light stuff going on in this abyss of angst I'm dumping on you all. I had fun writing it.
> 
> Also uh... I somewhat leaned into some temptation of hinting at a certain ship I'm into with Felix's mention of a certain character. It's not a major part of this story as I'm not confident in my writing ability in shipping yet, but I hope you guys don't mind little (obvious) teases like that. It's why I tagged it as gen. Hell, I don't think I can force in one of my favorite ships with Dimitri (it's a rarer one too). 
> 
> This chapter is a bit more of a set up for future ones, so apologies if it's not too crazy in terms of plot development. Back to watching Dimitri suffer in the next few chapters. (I'm sorry bro)


	9. Worries and Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey everyone, apologies for this chapter's lateness. Got busy with schoolwork and distracted by the cindered shadows dlc. First, I had fun with how challenging it is and how lovable Ashen Wolves are. Second, there's some interesting new lore and information from it, thats for sure. I think it's worth noting that I have watched some of the new supports from it, Hapi and Dimitri's being one of them. I'll just say I'm surprised that the new stuff that came out of this dlc doesn't seem to interfere with what I already have plotted out for this story. 
> 
> If anything, I may reference something specific in an upcoming chapter from the support I mentioned, but it won't change too much of what I have already planned in advance. Those who have watched it already will know what it is once it comes up. 
> 
> Also, I recommend listening to that new fe premium arrange that just came out. The remixed music is fantastic just like last years.

From the safety of the window he stood behind, Thales watched as their experiment flourished in the battle against one of the many Demonic Beasts they had on standby, the two engaged in the confines of the chamber while some assistants and guards watched inside safely behind a protective wall. 

At first, he was unsure of the idea of using those Demonic Beasts against Dimitri, as not only would it be a potential loss of resources for the war but also a threat towards the only pure-blooded Blaiddyd bearer they had. But these new tests have shown that it was an excellent idea as it forced the prince to fend for his life. Yes, they could use one of the other suitable subjects in case he failed, but by that point they may as well call off the idea of creating another obedient weapon to stand by their cause. No other experiment would be able to match the potential of the original, even with blood transplants of the very same Crest. 

Of course, Thales still very much treasured the result of experiments done to the Hresvelg family years ago. A leader successfully crafted to further bring upon ruin to the surface dwellers and move the Agarthans forward in their plans. It was a painstaking process as it often resulted in many subjects going mad or their frail bodies shriveling up from the inhuman power imposed into them. After hundreds of years hosting the powers of those Nabateans, the beasts connection to the Crests has drastically weakened.

That is why seeing the fruit of their labor bearing the Crest of the Fell Star is quite the accomplished feat, as it shows how much they have advanced their technology and magic rituals. And with the knowledge they gained from years of further research, they very well may be able to recreate their results far more efficiently. Though while things seem to be progressing as planned, he knew that their creation has been working against him in secret. Thales is confident that she won’t be able to accomplish any goals she’s set in line for once this war is over, but he rather not take the chance. Not when they are still so far away from completing their other projects. Hopefully, her stepbrother will serve as another leash to put her in place once his blood reconstruction surgery is completed.

He turns to look at Pittacus who is also watching the whole spectacle. Once again, she’s fallen back into her habit of biting her thumb as she watches Dimitri get thrown into a wall from the demonic beasts attack. She takes a single step towards the gate of the chamber until Thales catches her arm. 

“Do not interfere.”

“He may die.” Pittacus said, trying to pull her arm away. 

Thales snorts and lets go of her. “We know very well what he is capable of. You promised me that I would watch him use his Major Crest in full display. With no interruptions.”

Much to his relief, Pittacus stays put as he hoped and continues to watch in silence. She struggled to keep her blank stare, flinching every time Dimitri gets hit or nearly crushed by the beast. Her eyes lit up whenever he activated his Crest in a dire moment, using it in a swift motion to break down a chunk of the monster’s armor.

Undeniably, Thales also felt a tinge of joy seeing how far their experiments have improved. Even with Solon’s loss they have managed to ensure their newer projects have lower failure rates. Though this also carried the flaw in that they needed to dedicate an immeasurable amount of time to ensure the subject doesn’t expire. It meant keeping up with consistent results and keeping their quality in check. Sometimes he couldn’t help roughing up the prince in the meanwhile; the boy is far too defiant for his liking even at this stage.

“He’s improved amazingly since Bias first brought him here.” Pittacus suddenly commented. “While his activation rates are still low compared to other Major Crests, he’s now able to use it within a higher frequency. Though I’m curious, since Myson was kind enough to lend us some of his monsters, do you think Bias would lend her toys for us too?”

“Hmph, you know how overprotective she is about her machines. Not only that, but I believe Cornelia has requested for them to be delivered to her.”

“She still goes by that beast name?”

Thales sighs. “By her own insistence. I have no interest in discussing it any further with her.”

“I see.”

They continued to watch in silence, well, momentarily. A clicking noise could be heard prompting Thales to look over to Pittacus, who seems to be chipping her fingernails off with frantic bites. She mumbles something unintelligible to herself as her eyes are glued to the window. Of the few words he could pick up, the most distinct was ‘mine’ and ‘limits’. 

Not this again.

“Pittacus.” Thales starts. 

“Y-yes?” She pries her eyes away from the window to turn her attention towards him.

“Have we not discussed this problem of yours countless times before? You promised that you would control yourself when I put you in charge of this assignment, especially regarding how important this one is. Even your own team has been concerned about your behavior towards the boy.”

“I promise you I will not make the same mistakes again. Not once have I done anything more than what is necessary for the weapon.” She said, clutching her papers tightly. “I’m only ensuring that he survives unscathed.”

“And I know very well that stoicism of yours is but a facade that’s beginning to crumble. There’s no need to hide it, the signs are there.” He points out coldly, crossing his arms as he watches the Demonic Beast fall to the ground. Dimitri is barely standing as he uses the lance as a support for his legs. “If I see you jeopardizing our goals again, then that little secret incident of yours will become known to the rest of the sages.” 

Biting her lip Pittacus quickly looks around to make sure no one is overhearing their conversation, narrowing her eyes as she turns to Thales. “No one needs to know what happened regarding my children. You’d lose a valuable asset if I choose to disappear if the word is spread, _especially_ if the other sages discover it.” She whispers in a harsh tone. 

The rare occasion where she shows her emotions. A good sign. She should know very well when she’s being cornered; having to keep an eye on his own subordinates is quite unfortunate. These moments where his trust is being tested always have the potential to overthrow their plans from the inside. 

His only reason why he tolerates her presence is thanks to her expertise in Crest research and having plenty of experience working alongside Solon. When she begged to lead the project, Thales was unsure if it was right to leave her at the helm knowing how attached she would get with previous subjects. She did a fair job in showcasing her disinterest at first, but now he can see she’s struggling to contain the emotions that she tries desperately to erase, especially as they near the next phase. He would have to make more room in his schedule to visit here often to ensure nothing happens to the prince, yet frequent absences will only alert the wrong people, especially that sniffling retainer that shadows behind the Emperor. His scattered disappearances every moon is concerning enough.

“True. Nonetheless, this only serves as a reminder that I won’t let past transgressions go unnoticed, no matter how many contributions you have made. If you wish to latch onto one of the subjects, do so with the disposable ones we are still keeping on the other floor.”

“What about that woman that’s still being kept there?” 

“You know very well I’m not talking about her. She’s not to be interacted with.”

Pittacus scowls at him. “You may as well move her then. She’s taking up precious resources and space.”

“Her staying there is a punishment for misconduct. I’ll remove her once I see fit.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the chamber gates bursting open. Out comes a few guards dragging Dimitri by his arms and a few assistants led by Amelius. Dimitri’s tired eyes drifted over to Thales, staring steadily until they flashed a dark purple.

“...Nnghh! Get out! Get OUT!” Dimitri cries out, shutting his eyes as he violently shakes his head, stopping once a few volts of electricity is sent through his body. His head hangs down as he pants while droplets of sweat fall to the floor. 

Thales circles around him, pulling away the strands of hair to see the curse in its full glory: an intricately detailed symbol that appeared in the form of an eye. In its early stages it looked simple, but over time as the boy’s resistances weakened it’s power grew stronger as it ate away at his dreams and memories. 

“He’s ready it seems,” Pittacus states, back to her blank expression and monotone voice. “Though, quite unfortunate I didn’t have the opportunity to see how he operates with his relic before the next surgery.”

“Apparently there has been a delay in locating where it has been hidden,” Thales says, pulling Dimitri’s head up by his hair and leans close to him. “In the meantime, my spy has been breaking down any walls she can. Leaking any secrets she could find for us or perchance even the Empire to make use of. The offer still stands. Submit or their blood will be on your hands.”

For a moment Dimitri stared absentmindedly at Thales, making the latter believe their captive has already lost his mind. That is until a wad of spit lands on Thales’ face, prompting him to strike Dimitri straight at the jaw.

“Thales!” Pittacus steps in between the two and checks on Dimitri’s face. 

“Revolting.” Thales is handed a rag and wipes the spit off his cheek. “Still plenty of energy left in this one.”

Dimitri shuddered out a laugh as he lifts up his head and glares at Thales. “You monsters got your damned Major Crest. If you’re planning to give me that second one then get on with it, because once that’s done I’ll be sure to use it to tear off your heads.” He growled. 

“You’re right boss, this one still has some guts despite the fun he’s been put through.” Amelius pipes up. “Or maybe, he’s just an idiot. Probably both.”

“Please take the last of his blood samples and return him back to his cell, he needs proper rest until the preparations for the next stage are complete.” Pittacus ordered as she turns to Amelius. “And I request for the blood of the second Crest to be delivered here, I need to finalize my results.”

Thales turns away, giving one last piece of acknowledgment to Pittacus. “I’ll be returning in a few days, there are some incidents near my territory that I need to address. Until then, I don’t want any further complications.”

Pittacus remained silent as she averted her gaze, keeping her attention towards Dimitri who was being lifted up and being forced to walk on his own. Thales clears his throat, queuing a response out of her.

“...Of course.”

* * *

Dimitri tried to fall asleep. But the sores all over his body make every slight movement painful. Ever since his Crest’s full transformation into a Major, his muscles ached every time he decides to activate it. Those tests where they pit him against those demonic beasts are ruthless, pushed him to his very limits until either he or the beast falls first. Today was no different, and with Thales being present it meant they wanted to showcase everything he could do. 

He rolls to his side, squinting in the darkness as he cups his hands. Taking in a deep breath, he summons his Crest and watches the blue light flicker in his palms. He holds it for as long as possible, noticing how vibrant it’s color as become compared to when he was first brought here. As he reaches his limit he releases it, having no energy to keep going. While as ‘easy’ it has become to will the Crest into being, it seems impossible to draw strength from it when the drugs are still in effect.

He’s scared. 

Not for what will happen to him, but everyone else outside. With only crumbs of information on whats going on outside he can only fear if the others have met the same fate as their professor. He doesn’t want Felix’s family dead for his choices here. If only there was a way to reach out and contact them.

He wonders what’s happened to Dedue, who he last remembered being pushed away as he was dragged to his prison cell in Fhirdiad. Not knowing whats happened to his trusted friend, is far more torture than whatever they inflicted here. He’s well aware of how driven Dedue is with his devotion, so it’s a question on what he has been doing this whole time. If only he could remember if anything happened while he was in Fhirdiad. 

Damn it all! The blank between his imprisonment there and waking up here is still tormenting him too. Knowing that it was because of that damned curse they branded on his neck makes him wish there was a way to remove it on his own. He considered doing extreme things such as scratching it away with his nails which have grown long, but seeing as it’s magic clawed its ways throughout his entire system makes that seem like a pointless attempt. 

At one point he made an idiotic decision to zap it with his magic, wanting to see if it would react to any spells that are cast on it. All he received was his own magic bouncing back in his body in return, the backlash a whole lot stronger compared to the measly amount of magic he poured into that shock. 

He carefully sits up from his bed, sensing his connection with the dead has become even weaker. As silent as his closest family and friends are, they at least still lurked in the shadows. However, the rest are still disappearing. Names and faces have become disconnected and unfamiliar. And much to his dismay, the curse is slowly catching up to even his most recent memories. Key members of the other classes in the academy are starting to become a blur. 

All this is doing is making him feel even more helpless. 

_‘You’re still awake?’_

Dimitri presses his hands against his head as that echo pounds against his skull. There’s that blasted voice again. “Leave me alone, Dima.”

_‘Oh? You recognized it so quickly despite how distorted I sound! That’s no fun.’_

He hissed as the words bounced inside his head. “I didn’t want to believe it at first, but considering how things didn’t add up I wasn’t partial to playing the role of fool anymore.” 

_‘Shame. I was hoping to drag it on longer, especially after the reveal of your precious teacher’s demise.’_

Dimitri yelps and clutches his head even harder.

_‘Oh, I guess my voice is a tad too loud, isn’t it? Maybe I should whisper.’_

That… is a slight improvement. “...What do you want from me? Are you really Oneiros?”

Dima laughs. _‘I guess I am one of them. I’m only doing my job.’_

“One of them?”

_‘How should I put it… I guess it’s simple to say we are built up from your strongest memories. Competing over who determines what happens to your mind, and you helped a whole lot taking out the other for me!’_

“What?”

_‘Your stepsister. While I work towards eating away your dreams and memories, she was trying to protect them. You choosing who to thrive is what decides on our effectiveness. But you really fell for my act there. Frankly, I wanted to laugh when I saw how determined you were to kill off the only hope you had in keeping everything in check.’_

So it was all a trick. He basically gave permission for the curse to take free reign over what goes on inside his head. He feels foolish for letting his anger take control of his actions at the time. Was he really that desperate?

_‘Aww don’t beat yourself up over it. You were plagued by seeing continuous nightmares of her relentlessly killing me, of course you would—’_

“Enough!” 

The banging of metal caused Dimitri to jolt and almost fall off his bed. Judging by that familiar sound, it came from the door. There were a few more loud knocks until a gruff, muffled voice came through. 

“Go to sleep you beast! Stop talking to yourself already!”

_‘Ha, I guess that’s my cue to make my exit and let you rest. We’ll speak again next time, sweet dreams.’_

And with that, Dima’s voice went silent. The only sound left was Dimitri’s own heavy breathing. After some minutes have passed and he was sure that there were no other voices that'll torment him, he sighs and lies back down on his thin pillow. 

He shouldn’t be surprised it turned out this way. But now he’s left wondering about whatever happened to that dream Edelgard then since she was supposedly meant to return. Could it have been a strange lie crafted to mislead him, or was it some precaution in case she ever did come back? There’s no one he can seem to trust in here. This loneliness is suffocating. 

As for the real Edelgard, he knows his hatred towards her is still strong. He’s at least aware that her partnership with these Agarthans is shakey, otherwise they wouldn’t hide his current status from her. But the fact that she’s even working with them is making his blood boil. What happened to make her change like this? What happened to that sweet girl who took charge when things looked tough? The one who went through the trouble of putting him through rigorous dance lessons? He doesn’t understand what could have happened once she returned back to the Empire. 

Did… did they experiment on her too? Is that why she looks at him with such unfamiliarity? Why her hair changed to a different color? 

Is the El he knew back then still in there?


	10. She Watches from Above

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the concept of this chapter has been sitting around for a while, as far back as when I was coming up with the fic in the first place. I did make changes and edit to work accordingly to what has already been established before. It's nice to have finally made it to this point in the story.

Surprisingly Dima went silent after the night where he taunted Dimitri. Being outed so quickly may have been the cause, though it has caused no delay in fragments of his memory slipping away from his grasp like before. Moments that he originally could recall with ease now become part of the fog that drapes over his mind, such as celebrations from his academy days to significant times he’s had with his family and friends. He’s come to a point where he questions if those were ever real, or if he’s trying to compensate for something that was never there. 

As harmful as it may be, he wishes he could go back to those dreams. If he could so much as manipulate one part of the curse by taking action himself, then maybe the same could be applied to the other part of it. Thinking back on it, it’s strange how much valuable information was given away by Dima. Could it be out of cockiness?

Even then, he doesn’t have much of an opportunity to worry over that right now. The next day he would be experimented on came sooner than he expected, with Amelius eagerly dragging him to the same white operating room he has grown accustomed to seeing. Dimitri took in a deep breath as he takes a step right inside. 

The first thing he noticed is a couple of assistants preparing strange equipment around where he would be laying down on over the course of the surgery. They checked his pulse, temperature, and removed any bandages he is was still wearing from previous battles or experiments.

As he was being strapped down and fastened to the table, Pittacus walks in with her usual papers. She sets them down and comes to his side, not uttering a single word as she unnervingly stares at him, playfully combing through his hair with her fingers making him feel nauseated with how personal she’s getting. 

“Would you please stop that, for _once?_ ” He hissed at her.

Thankfully, she pulls her hand away and tilts her head. “I only want to ensure you feel safe considering how perilous this surgery is. Not many tend to survive it you know, as it’s side effects put a great strain on the body.” She places her hand on her chin as she readjusts the placement of one of the pieces of equipment, pondering the rest of her thought. “Many tend to go mad—or their bodies would deteriorate. Even survivors tend to lose years of their lives—”

“Lose years?!” 

“Ah. I seemed to have done the opposite of my intention.” Pittacus picks up one of her papers and marks something off. “Worry not as we managed to make that effect less detrimental compared to how it was with our original tests, who are more likely to die off in a few years. On the other hand, our most successful subject still has many years of fulfilling life ahead in comparison. And you will be one of the lucky few who’ll make it out alive, perhaps with a larger life expectancy since we are only implanting a Minor Crest inside of you. The strain you’ll undergo won’t be as unforgiving compared to when we implanted Major Crests.”

“Hah, and what will you do if I were to perish right on this table?” Dimitri entertained the thought. The death of their valuable weapon would be a great blow to their plans. 

Out of nowhere, Pittacus grabs him by his chin and bores holes right through his eyes. “It won’t happen as long as I’m in charge. Understood?”

Dimitri pulls himself away from her tight grasp. A chill runs down his spine as he couldn’t get that feeling of her cold hands off of him. Trying to distract himself he looks around the space and discovers that a certain face is missing in the room. 

“Where’s Thales?” 

“Do not worry about him, he’ll be coming a few hours from now while we are in the middle of this.” She covers her mouth as she looks over her shoulder. “He may be displeased once he discovers I started without him being present, but it does not matter.” 

“Lady Pittacus, we will be ready once Amelius returns with the blood.” One of the assistants called out. 

“I see. Then, can you two do me a small favor and bring in the rest who will be assisting us for this ritual?”

“A-are you sure that is wise? What if the subject acts out again?” The other one stammered out.

“I can handle my own and the guards will be outside in waiting.” She stares back down to Dimitri. “He can’t do anything.”

“If that is what you wish…” Soon, Dimitri could hear the sound of footsteps shuffling away and the door opening and closing. It’s just him and Pittacus alone right now.

Now this actually concerns Dimitri. He has been well aware of how often Thales and Pittacus seem to have disagreements with each other, and from the way they interacted a few days ago seems to imply something happened when he was in the chamber. With the way Pittacus seems to covet Dimitri, her acting independently spells bad news for what may happen to him if he's left alone with her.

As she removed her hand from her mouth, he noticed the corners of her lips have curved up a slight bit, barely registering as a smile. It was not a maniacal smile as he would imagine her ever displaying either, but rather eerie despite how kind it looks. Her eyes too were no longer wide either, now they have also relaxed into something genuine compared to the wide-eyed look she always had. Like always she caressed his cheek, this time leaning closer towards him to whisper in a calm voice, causing him to still. 

"We both have issues with Thales, correct? How about a deal?" 

“W-what?” Dimitri blinked, trying to process this new personality of hers. “What do you mean de-mmph!”

She clasps her hand over his mouth, looking behind her before turning back to him. “Now now, keep your volume low, will you? This is something only the two of us may discuss. No one else must know.” 

Dimitri’s heart pounds against his chest in dread. Was this the persona she has been hiding the whole time? He almost considered moving his head again, but he fears that she won’t be kind to him doing that a second time. She cautiously removes her hand, pleased with how docile he is being right now. Dimitri shudders and responds back in a harsh whisper. “Why in the goddess’ name would I make a deal with you, especially someone willing to betray their own comrades?”

“You misunderstand. Even a beast should know that those of the same kind are not truly in good terms with one another. I simply have something Thales has been hiding from you, which I can give in return if you help me.” 

“And what could you possibly have? You told me before you never leave this place.”

“I never said it was about the outside. This was only something he has brought to my attention just recently. All it depends on is if your memory is still intact. Otherwise, it’ll be a waste of time sharing this with you.”

“Then remove this damned curse that your people implanted onto me!”

Pittacus lets out a soft giggle. “That isn’t something I should be doing. Even if I would, I cannot. Bias was the one who placed it on you, so only she has the authority to remove it from your body. She also only gave a select few permission to use it in case you decide to act out, along with giving me free control to do minor modifications when needed.”

So no matter what he’s stuck with it. Even if he were to attempt convincing Pittacus it wouldn’t matter at all it seems. “Fine then. Tell me what is it exactly that I should know?”

“Very well then. Do you still remember Patricia, or by any chance—Anselma?” 

His eyes widen as the last word escaped her lips. “You… Who told you that that other name?”

Delighted by his reaction, her smile grows. “So you still remember her. That’s good. Then if you value this opportunity: do not let Thales know I told you that she’s here, alive and well. Comply with my wishes and not only can I delay the curse from quickly claiming the rest of your memories, but I can also bring you to her so you can finally be united with a soul you thought was once lost.”

Is she actually telling the truth here? Claiming that his stepmother is still alive? Before he can open his mouth to speak again, she places a strange mask over his mouth that muffled his voice. He looks back up to her to see that she reverted back to that emotionless facade. 

“When we have the chance, let me know your thoughts and we can further discuss the deal. Remember to keep that promise between only us, otherwise, you will miss out on the only opportunity of seeing her while you’re still Dimitri.”

This could be a trap. There is no proof or signs that his stepmother lived, he saw her walk into the blazing embers years ago. He can't just blindly believe in Pittacus' word, she could just be taking advantage of him! Yet this whole scenario itself is bizarre, what does she gain from hiding this from everyone else here? Should he just wait and see? It's not as if he could do anything right now with him being locked down to this table. What choice does he have?

Taking his silence as an answer, Pittacus slides her hand underneath his neck, pressing into where the curse is. Traces of dark magic could be felt flowing into him. He weakly struggles against his restraints as his Crest is painfully ripped out against his will despite the drugs already in his system, making him realize how powerful it has become now that they no longer needed to inject the other serum anymore. 

Pittacus hums, continuing on with stroking his hair as she pleases. "I know it hurts, but I promise that pain will become an afterthought once we finish. Consider this to be the first of many consecutive operations forcing your blood to accept the new Crest entering the system. The two will coexist, no matter how much your body may try to resist it. For now, sleep well.”

Slumber beckons his eyes to close amidst of all the pain that has bloomed across his body. The Crest of Blaiddyd still hovers above him, and it’s the last thing he sees once everything goes dark. He’ll likely find himself waking up back in his cell like always once this is over, only concerned with the new stitches he’ll find himself with— 

Pain.  
  


His eyes shot open as he feels a searing hot sensation underneath his skin. They dart around taking in the scene before him.

The hue of his Crest has changed from it’s luminescent blue to a sickly purple, with the table he lies on now surrounded by a collection of dark mages chanting an enigmatic spell. Tubes connected to pouches of blood filled with splotches of black sludge that traverse down tubes leading into his veins. Out of panic he attempts to use his Crest to break out, but all it did was empower its glow even more. 

No no no, why is he awake? What in the hell are they doing to him? Goddess it hurts. It hurts so much. 

“His eyes are open.”

“Does the anesthesia not work for this?”

“It’s of no matter if he’s awake or not. Proceed with no delay.” That voice—no doubt it was Thales who said that. 

“Endure it, Dimitri.” No mistaking that one either, it was Pittacus that time.

Dimitri could feel the foreign blood trickling into his system, continuing to scorch him from the inside. It reaches unfathomable levels agony causing him to let out a bloodcurdling scream through his mask, trying desperately to break free of his restraints so that he could rip out those tubes and kill all of them. But nothing seemed to work no matter how hard he tried. Warm tears ran down the sides of his face the longer it continued. 

His frantic breathing finally started to slow after all of his screams have been drained away from his soul. With all of his energy spent, the only thing left to accompany him was the fire burning him from within. His head lulls to the side, now indifferent the sounds of chanting and smell of rotting blood entering his body. 

He doesn’t know how long this has been going on or how long it will last. There’s no one to call out to for help. No one is going to come to save him. Even if by some miracle someone was looking for him, he knows it doesn’t matter now that they are getting what they want. Maybe by chance if his screams reach far enough, the goddess will listen for once. 

No. That’s some part of him still desperately holding out for hope, because that’s all he has. He’s not surprised that he’s never called out to the goddess before to save him despite how long he’s been here. Because what would be the point? Even when he grew up being taught the ways of the church, he knew all she would ever do was watch him and his loved ones. It happened in Duscur, and this was no different. 

Maybe it’s selfish to expect her to come to the aid of mortals such as him. They will always be at the mercy at the eventual misfortune that comes to seize them by their throats, strangling out whatever hope they ever had. To him, this is the ugly truth that he has come to realize at such a young age. 

Under her watchful eye, they will always be alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter, but I felt that this is a good point to end it on instead of transitioning to another scene. 
> 
> The next one will likely be a little delayed by a few weeks, mostly due to some work I need to finish in real life. Not only that, but there's a side story (or more like a prequel) for this series that's still in the middle of a work in progress that I hope to release sometime in March. Apologies for the further delay.


	11. Inescapable Dread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you're all doing well. I kept you waiting for quite a few weeks now, but finally I'm getting this chapter out. I hit quite a writer's block with this one and had to rewrite some scenes a few times because I wasn't pleased with how it originally turned out, so apologies if you see any errors in it. 
> 
> I'm happy and thankful for the reception from last chapter, I'm so glad you guys loved it! Again I appreciate you all for sticking around with this story plus all the views and kudos you've given. It means a lot!!

He feels cold. So, so, cold. 

Dimitri was returned back to his cell, left to only endure the after-effects of the first surgery out of many. He doesn’t remember being brought here at all, but he’s grateful to finally be alone on his bed. Unfortunately, his skin was unnervingly stone-cold now, emitting no heat despite the searing sensation he feels underneath his skin. His blood continues to burn as that dark energy worms it’s way throughout his system, ensuring that the magic from that ritual doesn’t wear off and continues to corrupt it as he ‘rested’. It’s become almost unbearable at the points where the injections were done on his body. That vile, disgusting, sludge-filled blood that’s now trying to fuse into his own. 

Dimitri tightens his grip on his covers as he tossed and turned while heaving, unable to rid himself of the stinging irritation he feels on his neck either. Every time he closes his eyes, he finds himself returning to the same, inescapable nightmare. That image of his tainted Crest won’t go away no matter how much he tries to blink it away. It grows relentless as that voice returned to haunt him, as even the dead no longer wish to speak to him.

_‘You wish to forget that pain, right?’_

He could feel them. Those shadows coming closer to claim him. They were not the shadows of the dead, but of something else entirely. It hid in the corners of his mind, lying in wait till he is most vulnerable. But he cannot let it take over him so easily. Not like this. 

_‘It’s okay to relax. It’ll make things a whole lot easier for both of us. I can take it all away.’_

He clenches his eyes shut as he tries to ignore it. That voice is growing deeper and closer. Too much like his own. But he feels so compelled to listen to it for some reason, despite the intensified stinging and itches he feels every time the echoes boomed in his head. 

“Try as you might, but you cannot escape from me.”

Dimitri opens his eyes, finding himself sitting in the back of his old classroom. Just the way it was left before the war. Even here in his own nightmare, he could still feel the prickles around where the curse is planted. The torment he once escaped from the real world is still following him in here, a place that is no longer a safe haven. 

On top of the professor’s desk sat… Dima? It was not of the young form he always took, but a splitting mirror image of how he looked and dressed in the academy. But his tired eyes weren’t blue. Instead, his irises glowed purple. There was an obvious display of disinterest spread across his face. Even the way he lazily leaned against his own hand seemed like something Dimitri wouldn’t find himself doing. 

“D-Dima? Is that you?” Dimitri stood up from his bench but was cautious to not take another step closer. 

“You always made it so difficult for me. But that is the nature of beasts naturally being so stubborn, I suppose.” He said with a quiet, soft voice. He then picks up a book that was sitting on the desk, eyeing the cover before deciding to tear off pages from the inside. “Oh, and yes, I am ‘Dima’ as you called me.” 

Dimitri furrowed his brow, keeping an absolute watch for any sudden movements as he took a few slow steps forward. He hovers his hand over the hilt of his sword. “That’s becoming difficult to believe. Your entire demeanor has changed drastically from what it was before.”

Dima stops ripping through the pages and shuts the book with one hand, closing his eyes and sighing. He opens them again, this time with a forgiving smile. “Then would you rather that I talk the same way as you usually do? Would that make you feel more at ease?” His voice suddenly became a total mockery of Dimitri’s, baffling the prince over the tonal change in his copy’s attitude. Dima then sneers, going back to his quieter voice. “I thought so.”

Biting down the inside of his cheek, Dimitri pressed on. “...I don’t understand. Why exactly has your form changed?”

“My form? What a boring question.” Dima sighed again as he pushed the book away. “I’ve simply become strong enough to mirror you as I continued to eat away at your memories. I’ve told you before that you helped me reach this point, so for that, I thank you.” 

“Then for what reason did you reveal that you were behind all of this? You could have easily kept hidden and continued to destroy my mind while I was unaware.”

Dima hops off the desk, looking back to the window behind him as he leaned back against the desk’s edge. “I would almost agree that I should have continued my charade, but I was aware of how suspicious you have become of me. I’m somewhat glad actually, as I grew bored of your wallowing. It became far more entertaining to slowly torment you through the removal of those precious memories as you slept.” He then turns his gaze over to Dimitri, his smile ever-growing as he continued. “The only main benefit of even interacting with you was to remove my opposing half as she kept killing me before I even had the chance in this game of ours. Once she was weakened by your own hand, that’s when I was given the full reigns of toying with your senses.”

Narrowing his eyes, Dimitri takes another step forward while gripping the hilt, careful to not break it as his fury builds up. So it was just as that Edelgard from before mentioned: Dima was a parasite all along. And he fell for the obvious trap thanks to his blind anger. “What else were you doing to my mind?” 

Dima chuckled as he shook his head. “I know what you are thinking. Don’t try to disregard her as well, she’s just as much of a parasite in being responsible for pulling you in here in the first place.” He then makes a circling motion to the side of his head. “As for my influence: those ghosts you claim to see. The moment you thought their voices were gone, was when I was first given the chance to control what you saw and heard. That’s why when you awoke, I made sure to have them return at full force. A test to see the full extent of what I could do.”

“So you are the one responsible for them being gone. For removing my memories of those who have perished!” He unsheaths his sword as Dima while Dima held his hands up. 

“Come now, you and I know best how much you actually despised their presence. Did you not grow weary of how often they badgered you? How they whispered their curses into your ear when you never sought out revenge? You were happy because you are tired of being shackled by them. You wanted to be free.”

“I was happy because I wanted to _appease_ them! I did not want to forget them!”

“You’re only continuing to blind yourself to stay as a devoted servant for them,” Dima waves off as he laughs. “The circumstances say you should just move on, but all I can see is the deplorable state you are in. You can’t even recall your own father’s name anymore.”

Just like that, Dimitri unsheaths his weapon and thrusts forward. The tip pierces into the air, as his target has suddenly vanished from where he was standing. Stunned, Dimitri whirls around to see Dima somehow changed positions in the room. With a smile, Dima then snaps his fingers. 

Dimitri winces, as by habit he covers his neck waiting for the incoming pain. But nothing like that happened. Instead, creeping darkness crawls underneath his feet and looms over him from the ceiling. Crooked, broken, shadowed hands begin to rise and hang from the growing shadows that have taken over the classroom and covered its windows. Soon, a multitude of broken, unrecognizable voices calls out for his name, spouting out meaningless words. A frenzy of them fall to his shoulders pushing him down as more cling onto his legs, grabbing at his face and pulling at his clothes. Distorted, unrecognizable faces emerge asking for revenge, trying to drag him down into the darkness below.

"Those are the people you have forgotten, all that have fallen under my will. And they will not be the last."

They shriek as Dimitri severed their arms in panic, adding on to the increasing headache pounding against his skull. He tries to fight against the overwhelming force, even attempting to use his Crest out of desperation, but only felt a stake driving through his very mind instead. As they coiled around his arms and retrieve the weapon from his weakening grasp, he clamps his eyes shut as Dima’s voice echoes again. 

"What a poor display, you've done better than that." Dima yawned. "Fighting back against me is pointless anyway. Just give in.”

“N-no… I won’t,” Dimitri shook his head, trying with all his might to break out of the hold. 

“Why bother clinging onto these memories? All they do is continuously remind you of the pain you have suffered. These constant trials that only serve to break you again and again.”

“Shut up!” Dimitri opens his eyes, only to see that the entire environment around him has changed. Dima is now gone. He is no longer bound by the shadows, but his form reverted to that of how he appeared back in Duscur. Once again surrounded by the enraged flames and the scent of burning flesh. 

_‘I did not lie when I said that we are the same. It took both the blood of my master and your own to allow my form to exist. I know you. I am you.’_

“N-no. Please not again…” Dimitri falls to his knees, digging his trembling fingers into the earth. Forced to watch as bodies fall one by one. He may not be able to recognize most of them, but witnessing the brutal slaughter as their limbs are torn away and bodies toss into the unforgiving fires still breaks him. As each one fell, another desperate voice joins in on the chorus asking for him to save them. Covering his ears won’t work. They won’t stop. 

_‘You must be so tired. Only to be used by your own demons and those of the outside who expect you to serve as their puppet king. You tell yourself that you’ll be able to help them, but deep down know very well how impossible that is.’_

From the corner of his eye, he could see the shape of someone who he still knows well. His stepmother, walking into the flames with a group of shadows. He calls out and reaches for her in hopes she’ll notice him this time, but only finds his voice had gone silent. The smoke and fire engulf where she once stood, leaving him alone again. 

_‘You cannot stop this inevitability. Continuing to fight against it will only lead to more suffering. We can reset it all. Forget those ghosts. Forget that rebellion. Forget Remire. The war. All of those torturous experiments. Everything, including your traitorous sister.’_

Forget. 

Yes, that sounds nice. Just—forgetting all of those regrets. 

_'You want to be free.'_

Why continue living with these burdens that only exist to pull him down? He is tired of this. It hurts living with all of these regrets. It hurts. 

_‘That’s right. By forgetting you’ll no longer have to live with this pain. It’ll be as though it never happened.’_

A hand reaches for Dimitri, prompting him to look up and see Dima with a kind smile. What was he was thinking? Of course, Dima is just trying to help him. He understands the pain best, so he knows what the prince has had to go through for these past 5 years. He wants to be safe. “I want to forget…” Dimitri reaches and holds onto Dima’s hand, already feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sorrow being lifted from his mind. He knows he shouldn’t bother thinking too much on what is happening. Because it’ll all be fine. 

An axe falls over Dima’s wrist, severing it from the rest of the arm. Dima yelps out in shock as he backs away to cover up the bleeding wound, while the hand itself fizzles away into dust. Dimitri blinks a few times, horrified by what he had just done. A girl with free-flowing brown pigtails steps in with her weapon, her eyes sharp as she turns to look back at him. 

“Edel… gard?” That was her name, right? Why does she look so different now?

“You little—!” Dima takes a few steps back as he furiously hisses at the loss of his hand. When his eyes steady upon seeing the young Edelgard, the corners of his mouth start to twitch up. “But no wonder you were hiding this whole time… that form of yours shows how pathetically weak you’ve become. It seems I had no reason to fear for your return.”

“Wake up.” Edelgard says to Dimitri. She heaves up her axe, showing an apparent struggle holding it.

“What?” Dimitri looks up at her, dazed. Why of all times did she decide to show herself now? 

“I said wake up!”

Everything around him slowed in time, he could once again see that the whole world was collapsing just like the end of any other nightmare before. He closes his eyes, and once he opens them again he finds himself back in the real world. 

Dimitri sits up from his bed, shaken by what just happened. His hand hovers over the curse, wary of touching it as he could tell the pain is still persisting. The burning in his blood has at least stopped.

Even though he had just woken up, he’s already having trouble trying to pick up on what just happened in that nightmare. It’s as if he just lost something from it, but he’s not sure on what. He could faintly recall the haunting whispers, the images of his stepmother and… his sister. Right, he almost forgot about her. Had she not shown up, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how much more he would have lost. This only leaves him conflicted though, as she’s also part of the dark magic that has long since ingrained itself into his mind. And the spitting image of the one who he still despises… 

_'I… stil…’_

Broken words seep into his ears, interrupting his thoughts. A weight of dread falls upon him as his neck starts to sting more, now becoming very apparent that he has not escaped that nightmare at all. 

_‘Still… here…’_

"N-no…" He pulls his feet back as he could see those shadowed hands return and climb over his sheets, whispering for him to help them. "Leave me alone!" Dimitri tries to kick them away, but they only fizzle on contact, reforming and continuing to crawl towards him.

_‘You are… not going to escape… that easily.'_

They’re everywhere. Like a disease, they continue to spread and take over the walls around him. As he desperately tries to escape the shadows, he falls off his bed and slams into the floor. One of them grabs his ankle and he yelps out in shock of how cold their touch is, all too real for his liking. Again he kicks away at the distorted faces that fall over the bed’s edge, crawling backward until he bumps into something hard. He looks up and is welcomed by humanoid shadows, not as crooked and broken as the rest. They grab and pull at him roughly but he refuses to succumb to their will.

His survival instinct kicks in and he tackles one of them down, grabbing it by the head as the others try to pull him away. Magic flows through his arms, taking shape into sparks of electricity flying directly into his hands and straight into its head. The other shadows manage to force Dimitri off and drop the one he was holding, though it was already too late for it as it had stopped flailing after that burst of magic. 

_‘...Not enough.’_

With what little strength he could muster Dimitri pulled his arms away from the hands holding him, panicking as one of them walked closer to him. Again he used magic, this time the strikes of lightning shooting out of his palms unpredictably throughout the cell. He felt their hold loosen, taking the opportunity to push back and bash one of against the wall. He broke free and falls to the ground. Without thinking, he held both hands up and summoned up as much of his energy as possible. A beam of electricity expels from his hands, cutting a hole through the other shadows. Something yanks his hair up and he screams as he felt a point press against his skin.

His eyes drift close, feeling the weight of more of those hands push him down. The voices and screams have become clearer now. 

* * *

Pittacus always wondered when Dimitri would make use of that magic he was developing in hiding. The fact that he was practicing it was well documented—mostly by herself—as she was most curious in watching him use it naturally without interference. There were obvious signs of magical growth in his body, but she didn’t want to cast Silence on him until she could see for herself when he was planning to use it. Quite a surprise she never witnessed him use it during their tests in the chambers. While that morbid curiosity costed some lives, it was all for the sake of watching her precious subject flourish and discover his new talents. His potential in magic is still severely lacking, but maybe with her tutelage, he’ll advance spectacularly. 

She gazes back to Dimitri, now strapped to a new table with heavier restraints infused with magic. He’s awake right now, but only mumbling to himself as he’s apparently seeing things beyond her comprehension. His irises still have yet to return to their original color.

A bit of her own fault for underestimating Bias’ magical influence. It seems poor Dimitri became too distressed after the first surgery, as Pittacus forced him to use his Major Crest throughout the whole operation. She could only fear for what may have happened had Amelius disobeyed and activated it during the boy’s manic outrage in his cell. Fortunately, the apprentice was able to inject the dosage in time. While Pittacus knows she should contact Bias for assistance regarding this issue at hand, she did promise to suppress the curse for Dimitri. Can’t allow any outside interference. 

Biting down on her thumb, she applies more pressure than usual until the blood drips down her finger. She holds it over a small tube filled with a sample of Dimitri’s, allowing the two to mix for the spell she's planning to cast. Somewhat tedious to try overwriting magic that has already been ingrained into his body, but she did promise to stop Oneiros from erasing the entirety of the prince’s memory. 

Preferably Pittacus would have talked to Dimitri about their deal beforehand, but she needs the boy to still be himself for that to work. It’s also going to be troublesome trying to do as she pleases when expected to finish this project by a certain timeframe. She had enough difficulty convincing her team that she'll handle him alone until they can proceed with the next surgery.

It seems Dimitri will have to wait on seeing his beloved stepmother. If only he knew how she’s just as much of a traitor to him just like his own stepsister. Such a beautiful, tragic family he’s found himself in. 

And such a wonderful subject she has acquired. A beast of this quality is going to be a waste in Thales’ hands, even though it's through her endeavors that she managed to craft something so powerful. Her previous projects have either died or have gone mad due to how weak they are, being left for scraps for other experiments. But this one? It belongs to _her._

In the past, she wouldn’t even dare to think of going against their cause. They have tirelessly worked so hard to disrupt the ongoings of the surface, yet her own selfish desires have taken hold of her once again. She failed with her own children, but this is a second chance. 

She looks over to check on him, wiping away the sweat on his face with a rag. He stops muttering for a moment, his eyes stilled when her hand passes over his line of sight. “You poor thing, do not fear." She couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips as she holds up the tube filled with blood.

"I’ll make sure you’ll still retain what's necessary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Back in chapters 4 and 5, I legit forgot Dimitri just casually wears a sword around with his standard uniform. I know a bunch of characters in the cast do like Hilda and Dedue, but my mind just ended up ignoring that until I go back in Heroes and look at [Hilda's](https://feheroes.gamepedia.com/Hilda:_Idle_Maiden) and [Dimitri's](https://feheroes.gamepedia.com/Dimitri:_The_Protector) art in my barracks. It's just REALLY strange seeing them carry those around when their most used weapons are something else entirely, and we all know Dimitri has a preference for lances. But since he is good at using swords (and it being one of the main weapons for his Great Lord class) I thought eh, might as well try using it! Alright, that's enough of my rambling.
> 
> Hopefully I can get back into weekly updates since I have some drafts of a few future chapters just sitting around waiting for me to look at them again. My classes have been moved to online now due to what's going on outside, but I wish the best for everyone that we'll get through this safely.


End file.
